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GENERAL H. W. LAWTON 




THE TWO STOWAWAYS 


A TALE OF ADVENTURE 
IN THE PHILIPPINES 


MARY G. BONESTEEL 


FIRST EDITION 



D. H. McBRIDE & CO. 

AKRON, O. 

NEW YORK 


CHICAGO 


508 


r— — 

Library of Conprreas 

Two Copies Received 

JAN 2 1901 

Copyright enfrv 

-ZZ, f 

SECOND COPT 
Defiv»rerf to* I 

ORDER DIVISION I 

JAN 4 1901 I 



Copyright, 1900, 

BY 

D. H. McBride & co. 



THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


CHAPTER I. 

N umber 13/' the end set of quarters 
at Randall barracks, was a bach- 
elor establishment, consisting of 
Captain Williston and his only child, Mac- 
Lean, a fine manly fellow of sixteen, known to 
all his friends in and out of the regiment as 
‘‘ Mac/^ 

The domestic portion of the household was 
presided over by Mrs. Delia O'Hara and her 
husband, a dried-up^ bow-legged, little, old 
ex-cavalry sergeant, who stood in wholesome 
awe of his good wife's brawn and tongue. 

Mike had been the Captain's man, or striker, 
ever since he had left the cavalry, and his wife 
had been Mrs. Williston's nurse, when a child, 
and had faithfully followed her sweet young 
mistress when she married her soldier hus- 
band and went to Arizona, her first army sta- 
tion. Mac was born at Fort A , and there, 

5 (U 


6 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


three years later, the sweet young- wife and 
mother died. 

From the moment that Delia had closed her 
young mistress’ tired, brown eyes in their last 
long sleep, she had taken little Mac into her 
warm, faithful heart, as her own. 

Sergeant O’Hara was courting Delia at this 
time, but she would not listen to his suit for 
many months, until, finally, the old fellow 
went to the “ Captain ” in despair of his lady 
love’s perversity. Delia at last consented to 
have Father Lee read the banns, when Cap- 
tain Williston had promised her that nothing 
should separate her from Mac, — ‘‘ Miss Mary’s 
bye and mine,” as she always said. 

It was a wonder Mac was not utterly spoiled, 
for he grew up the idol of the whole house. 
His father found it almost impossible to ever 
say nay to this brown-haired, sweet-faced lad 
who looked at him with the soft dark eyes of 
his dead mother. Both Delia and Mike were 
quite as bad. 

Shure, the bye has kissed the blarney 
stone more than onct,” Delia would say when 
Mac had coaxed something from her, she was 
sure wasn’t good for him. 

And it’s mesilf as is wishin’ that Mrs. 
O’Hara was along wid the bye, whin he was 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


7 


kissin’ it/’ old Mike would answer with a 
twinkle in his sharp old eyes. 

But then, Mike was the worst one in the 
family where spoiling Mac was concerned. 
He could refuse him nothing. He had taught 
him to ride, shoot, swim, and box. 

'' You wad niver think the lad belonged to 
the ‘ dough boys ’ fur he rides like a cavalry 
man, and none better, though I taught him 
mesilf.” The old fellow would brag over all 
the company when Mac would fly madly by 
on his lively black pony. 

Mac was sure he remembered his young 
mother; her beautiful face, on an exquisite 
ivory miniature, stood on the little stand which 
held her crucifix, an amethyst rosary, and a 
little statue of the Virgin Mother and the 
Divine Child. In his mind the boy always 
associated the two voting mothers, and their 
sweet, silent influence kept him out of many a 
piece of boyish mischief. 

The ''51st” had only been at this eastern 
station two years, and Mac was not sure that 
he liked life in the east, as well as the free, 
jolly existence he had left out on the frontier, 
at the small four-company post in western 
Montana, where his father had been stationed. 


8 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


His Grandmother McLean, a stately, white- 
haired old lady, who divided her time between 
her old-fashioned city home on Washington 
square in New York, and an older-fashioned 
one still, on the banks of the Hudson, near 
West Point, thought it high time Mac should 
become civilized, as she expressed it; and all 
the married aunts and uncles agreed, for they 
found Mac rather a firebrand amongst their 
own staid little flocks, when he paid them 
rather infrequent duty visits. 

But the life had compensations as even Mac 
admitted. There was foot ball for one thing, 
he had just been elected captain of the High 
School team, and considered it a far greater 
matter than passing his '' Regents ” with 
honor, and I am afraid his father was almost 
of the same opinion. 

Then he was captain of the High School 
cadets, simply as a matter of knowledge and 
rank; for his father was senior captain of the 
‘'51st,’' so ranked all the other boys’ fathers. 
Mac was a very good drill-master and disci- 
plinarian. 

'' For all the world like the Captain,” old 
Mike told Delia after he had hobbled down 
to the school to see Mac drill his company. 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


9 


“ A chip of the old block/’ said the old man, 
as if no higher praise could be given the boy. 

“ He may look like his mother, and he does, 
God rest her sweet sowl,” continued the old 
fellow, “ but his voice, his figger, and ivery ac- 
tion is as like his father as can be.” 

Well, he might do- worse,” commented 
Mrs. O’Hara with a sniff. She was in one of 
her “ tantrums ” as Mac called them, when no 
prospect pleased, and man was particularly 
vile. 

This was too much for old Mike, for the 
Captain to him was a model of all that was 
fine, honorable, and brave. He simply walked 
off leaving his better half to work off her tem- 
per in the sponge cake she was beating vigor- 
ously. 

It was at this rather inauspicious moment 
that Mac’s beaming face appeared at the 
kitchen door, holding out a pair of very dirty 
foot-ball trousers, in the knee of one a big 
hole gaped. 

‘‘ Say, Delia, will you have these patched by 
four sharp this afternoon? Good, stout can- 
vas mind you, — we are going to play the St. 
Alban ‘ Tigers ’ Saturday, and I don’t want to 
be scattered all over the field.” 

“ Why your father allows you to play that 


lO 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


hathenish, bloody game is what beats me,'^ 
was the reply Mac received; but Delia mo- 
tioned to him to lay the trousers on a kitchen 
chair. 

It was a cold, gray November day and the 
bright, warm kitchen, even if Delia was cross, 
seemed very cheery and inviting; so Mac sat 
down and watched the cake finished up and 
popped into the oven. 

'' Lunch most ready, Delia? ’’ he asked. 

It will be at one o’clock as usual.” 

'' Madge asked me to stop there, but I 
thought I wouldn’t; I saw the salad in the 
pantry at breakfast, so I thought we were go- 
ing to have a pretty good lunch at home to- 
day.” Mac’s eyes twinkled, Delia loved to 
cook for her boy, and it worried ner to have 
him stay out to meals. 

“ Madge Stuart asked you, did she? Well, 
gurls gets more furrad ivery day; Irish stew 
and bread and butter is all you’d get at the 
Stuart’s, a poor captain with five childer. 
We’re goin’ to have sweet breads, celery salad, 
strawberry-jam, and cake.” 

'' That’s a dandy layout. Delia, say, why 
can’t I ask Madge over to share, — can I, that’s 
a dear? ” 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


II 


Delia's face softened, it was like her boy to 
want to share, but all she said was: 

Well, hurry up about it, and don’t keep 
your father waiting." 

“ ril telephone," replied Mac, already half 
way up the back stairs. 

The Stuart quarters were quite a ways down 
the Line," and, as all the five were Mac’s 
special friends, they had rigged up a telephone 
from old, condemned material which the post 
signal officer had turned over to them. It was 
a rather primitive affair but did well enough. 
They were all proficient in using the flag or 

wig wag " code, but this was too slow a 
method for ordinary use. 

Mac was learning telegraphy in his spare 
moments, up in the sergeant-major's office. 
As soon as he was proficient he meant to teach 
Madge and she could hand down the art to 
the rest of the tribe. 

Delia chuckled at the conversation she 
heard, for the kitchen window was open, and 
Mac's youthful voice high and clear. 

'' Hello! Is it Madge? All right. Come 
over to lunch. Delia is as cross as two sticks; 
she and Mike have been scrapping, I know, 
but she's got a fine lunch — What? Oh, yes, 
sweet breads and celery salad. 


12 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


Sorry, but I can't. My team practices 
at four sharp. Good-bye. Meet you on the 
front porch." 

It was a jolly little lunch party. Captain 
Williston enjoyed the young people's fun and 
was never in the least a restraint upon them. 

Father and son never sat down at the table 
without a feeling of intense, silent thanks- 
giving, for there had been many weeks after 
the terrible Santiago campaign when neither 
of them had thought such a thing would be 
possible. 

Captain Williston had been severely 
wounded in that historic charge up San Juan; 
he had been carried to the field hospital, where 
he contracted typhoid fever and was brought 
back to Montauk a wreck of the tall, stalwart 
soldier who had led his men so gallantly on the 
1st of July. 

There had been a dreadful two days in July, 
the 3d and 4th, when Captain Williston's name 
had appeared among the dead. Mac had shut 
himself up in his room and neither Mike nor 
Delia could make him come out. He wouldn't 
or couldn't speak nor eat. They had Madge 
come over, but with no better success. On 
the morning of the 5th of July, however, the 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


13 


post commander received a cable from Playa 
del Este: 

“ Tell Mac slightly wounded. Don’t worry. 

(Signed.) Williston.” 

When Delia took this up to Mac, it was 
only then the boy broke down and threw him.- 
self into Delia’s loving arms, and, big, strap- 
ping fellow that he was, head and shoulders 
over Delia, she took him in her lap and wept 
and crooned over him as she used to when he 
was her '' baby.” 

Not a single cracker had been fired nor even 
a Roman candle set off in the barracks that 
dreadful 4th, but the children made up for it 
on the 5M1, for, though the ''51st ” had been 
in the thick of the fight at Santiago, no officer 
had been killed. A cable had been received 
from the colonel to this effect, at the same time 
Mac received his. 

It was early in August that the captain 
reached Montauk, and was met by Mac and 
old O’Hara, who brought their hero home by 
easy stages; the Williston and McLean fam- 
ilies all insisting upon visits. 

It was only after a battle royal that poor 
Mike had been allowed to go, Delia insisting 
that she was the proper one. 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


14 


You go? ’’ her husband protested, '' an me 
who has been the Captain’s own man this 
twinty years, me as has bin through many an 
Injun fight wid him, me sthay behint? Not if 
me name is Michael O’Hara.” 

For the only time in his married career 
the old fellow asserted himself so strongly that 
he gained his point. 

It was now the middle of November and 
the Captain, though thin and pale^ was look- 
ing more like himself, and was now on duty 
once more. 

'' There’s one thing, dad, dear, if you go to 
war any more Fin going with yon/' Mac would 
emphatically announce. 

'' God grant we won’t have any more fight- 
ing,” the captain would reply, but I’m afraid 
we shall have trouble with the insurgents at 
Manila, I don’t trust nor admire Aguinaldo.” 

I have begun Spanish, so as to be. ready,” 
answered Mac. 

'' Who is your teacher? ” asked his father 
with his grave smile. 

“ A recruit in the company from Oklahoma, 
the men call him ' Dago.’ He talks the lingo 
all right; though, of course, it must be Mexi- 
can Spanish. I gue-ss I could make myself 
understood.” 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


15 


I learned it myself at West Point/’ said 
the captain, '' but ' t'ienne listed mi sombrero ’ 
is every blessed word I remember. Last sum- 
mer, at Tampa, we were all furnished with a 
small book of military words and phrases in 
Spanish, so that we would be able to talk to 
the enemy if necessary. Oddly enough the 
Mauser that went through my chest, bored a 
hole in my manual of military Spanish, so that 
I really found it very useful, though not in the 
way the War Department had intended. Go 
on with your Spanish lessons, Mac, but don’t 
get the idea of Manila into your head, for noth- 
ing will induce me to take you when the regi- 
ment is ordered.” 

'' Why, father, you speak of the regiment’s 
going as a sure thing,” said Mac, surprised. 

W ell, Mac, I do think it is only a question 
of time. I believe next summer will see us 
campaigning in the Philippines.” 

^ j}c 

Once a week regularly. Captain Williston, 
Jr., of the Randall High School Eleven, had 
led his young athletes to victory on their native 
gridiron, but the big game of the season was 
to come off on Thanksgiving, when they were 
to tackle the Union College men. 


l6 THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 

Captain Mac had his men under strict dis- 
cipline and training. They practiced every 
spare moment, always with a sympathetic au- 
dience of High School girls and boys to cheer 
them on with their slogan of victory. 

‘‘Randall, Randall, Rah! Rah! Rah! 

Pan and Handle, Rah! Rah! Rah!’’ 

the last Rahs a slow chant. 

At Madge’s suggestion each girl had m.ade 
herself a small silk flag of the class colors, 
dark blue with a R. H. S. in white. The 
combination was very pretty and effective. 

Delia alone of all Mac’s friends and sympa- 
thizers remained cold and unappreciative. She 
made dire prophecies regarding the Thanks- 
giving dinner, which was an annual event to 
which the Stuarts, all of them, were Invariably 
invited, with three lone bachelors to round 
out the dozen. 

Madge felt like shaking her, but instead 
shpok her fist at her through a crack in the 
kitchen door, as she whispered to Mac : '' The 
old prophet of evil, she’s enough to make you 
lose the game and break every bone in your 
body. I would wish that her old pies might 
turn out heavy, only as we have to eat them, 
it would be a sort of ' biting off our noses to 
spite our faces.’ 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


17 


Mother says that is a dreadfully vulgar 
expression, I suppose it is, but it is certainly 
very expressive.’’ 

Oh, I don’t mind her croaking one bit, 
and I don’t want the mince and pumpkin pies 
heavy, if you please. Remember, I haven’t 
so much as had a taste of one this fall, — no 
pastry, is a strict rule in our diet,” said Mac. 

At last Thanksgiving dawned, clear, cold, 
and gray, — ideal foot-ball weather. Just as 
Mac was finishing his dumbbell exercise, the 
telephone rang vigorously. 

Hello! How’s your nerve? ” 

It was Matdge’s voice, but all five Stuarts 
were at the ’phone, too, all talking together. 

'' Tip top,” responded Mac, genially, and 
how’re yourselves? ” 

'' The same.” 

I’ll meet you all in five minutes and we’ll 
take a four-mile spin on our wheels before 
breakfast. 

'' O. K. Say, what’s that noise I hear? 
What? A mascot? Fine, we may need it be- 
fore we’re through. Good-bye.” 

It was a queer, choked sound Mac had 
heard over the wire, and he tried his best to 
get Madge to tell him what the mascot was, 


l8 THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 

as they spun around the parade four times; but 
he did not succeed, and even the four younger 
Stuarts, Tom, Elinor, Bob, and Betty were 
not to be bribed to disclose the secret. 

It’s better luck not to know,” Madge in- 
sisted. 

When Mac first caught sight of the Union 
team as they trifled with the ball on the field, 
his heart misgave him. 

‘‘ We are out-weighed,” he mentally ejacu- 
lated, and then and there decided upon a 
change of tactics. Their usual dashing, ag- 
gressive off-the-reel ” play, would not do 
with these lumbering, elephantine bunch of 
athletes, who were receiving a generous 
amount of applause as they spread out over 
the gridiron. 

Just then Mac heard a shrill, piercing 
rooster’s crow, and, looking up he caught sight 
of Madge’s merry face, in her arms was a 
small white game cock with his wings and tail 
painted a bright blue, while a huge bow of blue 
and white adorned his neck. 

Our mascot,” he thought, as their eyes 
met. '' Well, we certainly shall need one be- 
fore the game is over.” Madge smiled at him 
encouragingly and waved her flag and the 
mascot vigorously. She evidently was not 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


19 


daunted by the looks of these heavy-weights, 
so Mac cast all his fears to the winds, and 
thought now only of victory. 

The Union men fairly swooped down on the 
High School boys as soon as the ball was 
kicked into play, and before they could gather 
for a stand, had bored through the '' Blue and 
White;’' but the gamey, nervy little line stalled 
off the onslaught and aroused the wildest ap- 
plause from their supporters by their brilliant 
defense. 

But brawn told; and, though the struggling 
knights of the pigskin on the High School 
held a firm line, the Union men worked the 
oval over the line for a touchdown, counting 
five points. 

There was the greatest enthusiasm amongst 
Union sympathizers, while their rooters ” 
rent the air with their victorious cries. 

The Blue and White ” took their defeat in 
good humored silence; not so tne girl friends, 
led by Madge; they cheered gayly and waved 
their silken banners as if a touchdown and 
five points against their team was as nothing. 
Madge held her watch in one hand while she 
waved the crowing mascot in the other. 

Girls,” she was saying, I’m sure it was 
over the time limit and won’t count.” 


20 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


Mrs. Stuart was chaperoning Madge and a 
party of her schoolmates, but she was quite 
as enthusiastic as the girls, waving her colors, 
and thinking all the time how glad she was 
that Tom and Bob were not old nor big 
enough for foot ball. 

And Madge was right, for the enthusiasm 
of the visitors and their friends was cut short 
by the referee announcing that the time limit 
had been exceeded, and therefore, the touch- 
down could not be allowed. 

Union kicked off in fine style, but Mac 
caught the ball and made a magnificent run 
with it to the center of the field, and so the 
battle waged with varying fortunes for both 
sides. 

The seicond half was as hotly and gamily 
contested as the first. Every inch of ground 
was fought over; the time was pretty nearly 
up when Blue and White,’' after a fierce fight, 
had gotten the ball within ten yards of Union’s 
goal. They were still game, but pretty well 
exhausted, having had a terrific pounding and 
mauling from Union’s heavy-weights. 

Suddenly, at a mysterious signal, the quar- 
terback passed the ball to Mac, who shot for- 
ward like an arrow from a bow. 

They can’t touch him,” yelled the “ Blue 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


21 


and White'' chorus; and indeed the whole 
crowd went wild with excitement. They 
didn't touch him, and Mac reached the goal, 
made a touchdown, with both teams on top of 
him, a confused and yelling mass. 

Suddenly the yells ceased, there was an 
anxious silence; some one was being carried 
off the field as the referee announced, “ Time 
up." A goal was kicked off by the full-back; 
making the score 6 to o in favor of the High 
School. 

Meantime poor Mac, unconscious, was be- 
ing taken off, not knowing he had made the 
star play of the day and won a glorious victory 
for his team. 

The Blue and White " '' rooters " were 
chanting a new verse just improvised for the 
occasion, to the time which was their war cry 
and slogan of victory: 

Randall, your star is shining, 

McLean, for you we’re pining 
And we can kick the lining 
Out of all who tackle you. 

But alas for poor Mac, he would do no 
more kicking for some time to come. 

Madge had instinctively shut her eyes for 
an instant when Mac went down; she opened 


22 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


them as he was being carried off the field un- 
conscious, the blood streaming from a deep 
gash on his forehead, his father and young 
Dr. Barton, the post surgeon, in attendance. 
She heard the referee announce that Williston 
had been injured in the melee, but it was 
hoped that it was nothing serious. 

But it was pretty serious after all, for, be- 
sides being badly cut about the face and head, 
the doctor found that Mac's right arm was 
broken below the elbow. 

Delia received the bad news, which Madge 
flew ahead to tell her, so she might be ready, 
with an '' I-told-you-so " air which was very 
trying, but Madge kept her temper and flew 
around, such a willing young helper that Delia 
visibly softened. 

It was a very white, big-eyed, young ath- 
lete who occupied the easy couch in the par- 
lor that evening, for he had insisted upon the 
Thanksgiving dinner taking place as usual. 

After all it was quite a jolly dinner, it was 
such a relief to know that Mac's injuries were 
not serious. 

Mac, himself, with his face done up in strips 
of court plaster and his arm in a sling, was as 
gay as possible. 

No pie after all," he said merrily to Madge. 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


23 


“ I shall have to wait for Christmas and plum 
pudding, but Tm afraid I shall get terribly 
behind in class, Madge. Geometry and Greek 
are no joke this term. 

Madge thought a moment, then said: 

'' If you like, Mac, and mother is willing, 
I might come over every evening after din- 
ner, and we'll do our lessons together." 

You're a brick, Madge," was Mac's warm 
but slangy reply. Dr. Barton means to keep 
me out two weeks, at least, and we shall be 
reviewing for the January ' Regents,' you 
know." 

Mrs. Stuart, on being asked for her consent 
to the plan, was perfectly willing. Mac was 
like one of her own boys; his young mother 
had been her most intimate friend in the regi- 
ment, and the lonely boy had always found 
the Stuart's house a second home. 

Captain Williston, who overheard them dis- 
cussing the plan, offered to give Mac two 
hours every day right after lunch, to hear his 
lessons, while the second lieutenant of the 
company, Mr. Wayne, told them if they got 
'' stuck " in geometry, just to call on him for 
assistance. 

With so much help I shall probably be so 
far ahead of my class when I get back to 


24 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


school I won't need to study very hard the 
rest of the term/' Mac laughingly remarked. 

But, though he tried to be as cheerful as 
possible, Mrs. Stuart saw the effort he was 
making, so she marshalled her small flock 
quite early and took them home in spite of the 
boy's gay protests. 

The other guests were not long in following 
her example. 

Mac's last conscious thought was, as he 
dropped off into a sleen of exhaustion, If the 
regiment were ordered to Manila now, dad 
would never let me go with this helpless, 
broken arm." He was still counting upon 
gaining his father's permission to go, if they 
should be ordered. 


CHAPTER IT 


T he broken arm healed rapidly, and in 
two weeks Mac, with the injured mem- 
ber in a sling, was back at school. 
But his father and the doctor had forbidden 
foot ball again that season; however, as Christ- 
mas with skating and snow-shoeing was ap- 
proaching, this was not so bad as it might 
have been. 

Well, Mac,’’ said the captain one morning 
at breakfast, I have a plan in my head which 
will have to have your assistance in the carry- 
ing out of its details; will you have the time 
to help me out? ” 

'' Yes, indeed, sir.” 

“ I want this Christmas to be one of especial 
thanksgiving for you and me. God has been 
very good to us, my son; there were many 
days when I lay in that fever hospital at 
Siboney, that I never expected to see you 
again, dear old lad. Then and there, I made 
the Sacred Heart a promise which I now want 
to keep to the best of my ability this Christ- 


mas. 


25 


26 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


Mac choked a little over bis coffee, he couhl 
not bear, even yet, the mention of those dread- 
ful days of suspense. Yes, dad.'' 

My plan is to give a merry, happy Christ- 
mas to about a dozen boys and girls, who 
would, otherwise, have no Christmas. Leave 
out all the children who attend the Sunday 
schools, they will have a tree, also the soldiers' 
children, the ladies of the post will provide 
for them; all save Sergeant Connors' young- 
sters, they must have a very special invitation 
to my party." 

Mac knew why his father wished this, with- 
out asking. The Connors family held a very 
warm place in the hearts of both father and 
son; for it was old Connors, who, midst a 
storm of shot and shell on that terrible ist 
of July, had carried his wounded Captain to 
the rear; and, although shot in the arm, while 
doing so, managed, with the help of one of 
the mule packers, to get the unconscious of- 
ficer on a pack mule, and so to the field hos- 
pital, seven miles to the rear. Mac never met 
the sergeant's youngsters down town, but he 
treated them all round to candy and soda; 
his boyish way of showing his gratitude. 

I am going to give you a hundred dollars 
to spend for my party, and I appoint Mrs. 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


27 


Stuart, Madge, and Delia a committee of three 
to assist you in carrying out the details. I 
should like to give our guests a good old- 
fashioned Christmas dinner, so we shall need 
Delia’s help there. 

'' Mrs. Stuart, Madge, and yourself shall ask 
the guests, and buy the gifts for them; I only 
stipulate for two things, first I want ‘ Tat- 
roog ’ asked.” 

'' Tatroog ” was a half-witted French lad, 
the town bootblack, who possessed absolutely 
no relations, and whose name from ttte 
rouge'' on account of his red hair, had be- 
come anglicized into Tatroog.” He was a 
great friend and enthusiastic admirer of '' my 
Captain,” as he always spoke of Captain Willis - 
ton. He brought his hero great bunches of 
flowers and would gladly have shined his boots 
free a dozen times a day, had he been allowed 
to do so. 

Mac laughed. He shall be number one, 
dad.” 

'' Then my second condition,” continued 
the captain, is especially for the ladies of the 
committee. Each guest must have some 
pretty ornamental gift besides the useful and 
necessary ones.” 

'' All right, sir, we will do our best. I think 


28 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


it will make a splendid ‘ Thanksgiving/ and, 
if I win the • D. A. R. Historical Essay ' prize, 
I would like to chip in with you, dad. It’s 
a twenty-dollar gold piece. Of course, there 
is a big if, but I mean to try my very best.” 

What is the subject of your essay,” asked 
the Captain. 

'' ' Burgoyne’s Campaign.’ If they had only 
given us the ' S panish- American War' I would 
stand a much better show for it.” 

'' Perhaps,” assented his father, but you 
know, Mac, that history to be impartial should 
never be written until at least a hundred years 
has elapsed. Are there many contestants for 
the prize?” 

'' No, sir, not very many; Madge and myself 
from the post, about a dozen boys and girls 
from town, and a country boy, James Marvin, 
a queer kind of a duck, but awfully cleyer and 
bright. He’s awfully poor, and looks starved. 
I’ve put him down for number two on our 
list. He is very friendless, the fellows don’t 
like him — he is so stand-offish. 

‘‘ He sleeps in a little room of¥ of Professor 
Barton’s office. He helps the janitor about 
the building, to pay for his room rent. He 
does all his own cooking, too, on a tiny gas 
stove; so he will appreciate a good dinner.” 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


29 


'' Well, weVe made a good start with our 
guests already,” said the captain. '' I think, 
Mac, it would be a good plan to ask Father 
Smith to help us with the invitations, he will 
know every friendless, homeless body in the 
town.” 

Mrs. Stuart, Madge, and Delia, were all de- 
lighted to help with Captain Williston’s Christ- 
mas charity. 

'' Only I don’t want it to seem a ' charity y' ” 
the Captain told them. 

“ ' When thou makest a feast, call the poor, 
the maimed, the lame, and the blind. And 
thou shalt be blessed,’ ” quoted Mrs. Stuart 
softly. '' We understand, dear Captain.” 

Delia, took to the dinner part of the pro- 
gram at once, and invited Mike to assist; she 
also deigned to confer with him in an un- 
usually benevolent fashion. 

“ We’ll borrow the big extra ' round top ’ 
from the colonel and borrow what chairs we 
need from the quartermaster; we can seat 
fourteen easy.” 

To all of which Mike cordially agreed, 
promising on his part to provide the tree for 
the festivities. 

As Christmas drew near, the Williston’s 
quarters took on an air of great festivities; 


30 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


holly and mistletoe wreathed the windows, 
while great strings of evergreens hung over 
the folding-doors. The children made and 
hung all the decorations, with Mike’s invalu- 
able help. There was also a delicious odor of 
spicy fruit cake and plummy pudding floating 
through No. 13.” 

Mac declared that these tantalizing smells 
made the Advent days of abstinence, doubly 
hard to keep. 

Friday evenings, Mac and the young Stuarts 
spent in picking out nuts, slicing citron, and 
stoning raisins, for Delia despised the modern 
labor-saving stoneless raisins, and would not 
have them in her famous fruit cake and mince 
pies. The children <>Toaned at the extra work ; 
but knew better than to argue the point with 
Delia. 

After all it was really great fun, and many 
merry evenings were spent as they sat around 
the dining-room table, laughing and joking. 

Captain Williston, would look over the^ top 
of his book, with his rather sad, grave smile 
at the happy young faces, and mentally thank 
God that he had been spared to his boy, his 
and hers, his beautiful young wife, who would 
never grow old and gray as he now was grow- 
ing. 


- THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


31 


Both Madge and Mac were working very 
hard at their prize essays. The conditions of 
the contest were very simple, and left to the 
honor of the students. Both Professor Bar- 
ton, the superintendent, and Miss Walcott, 
the principal, were '' great on honor,'' in the 
school parlance; and as a rule the system 
worked very well. Any High School pupil 
was at liberty to enter the contest, but the 
contestants were to receive absolutely no out- 
side help, nor were they to discuss or read 
each others papers. The essays were to be 
between 1,500 and 2^000 words long, and to 
be handed in by December 15th. The name 
of the fortunate winner of the prize would be 
announced on the 20th, two days before school 
would close for the Christmas holidays. 

Professor Barton and Miss Walcott were to 
be the judges. 

Mac had a friend in the village who came 
to his assistance by throwing open his library 
to him. 

Judge Bailey was a remarkable old man, 
nearly ninety, yet his mind was as clear as that 
of any young man. He was an old-fashioned 
scholar, with a deep contempt of modern men 
and methods. 

But he and Mac had begun an acquaintance- 


32 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


ship over the judge’s runaway pug, “ Dr. John- 
son.” Mac returned the truant, and made 
himself so agreeable that he was invited to 
come again ; so, finally he and the old man 
had become very good friends indeed. 

Judge Bailey’s library was famous for its 
collection of Revolutionary histories, memoirs 
and various curious old folios and documents 
of all sorts. 

Indeed the old judge himself was so near to 
Revolutionary times that Mac thousfht him 
the most interesting historv of all. 

But all the time that Mac was delving deeply 
into this storehouse of facts, he had rather a 
mean feeling about it, as though he had an 
advantage over his schoolmates; so, one day 
he told his old friend all about the contest, of 
how hard the others were trying for the prize, 
and of what a help this fine library would be 
to them. The old judge said nothing but 
'' Humph! ” when Mac ended his little appeal. 

After Mac had gone home, the judge sat 
down and wrote to Professor Barton, saying 
that at the request of his young friend, Master 
McLean Williston, he would be pleased to 
have the contestants for the history prize make 
use of his library every day from four to six, 
until the contest closed. 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


33 


Mac was hailed as a public benefactor, and 
warmly thanked by all of his schoolmates who 
were trying for the prize, that is by all save 
James Marvin, who passed him by with his 
usual look of sullen dislike. 

Never mind, wedl thaw him out at our 
Christmas feast,'’ Mac thought, smiling back 
genially. 

The days flew by rapidly and all the essays, 
neatly copied and tied with the school colors, 
were handed in promptly Monday morning. 

The judges. Professor Barton and Miss 
Walcott, would take the week to examine and 
pass upon the essays, announcing the fortu- 
nate one the following Monday, two days be- 
fore the vacation. 

The Friday before, about five o'clock, Mr. 
Barton and Miss Walcott came into the office, 
their hands filled with neat-looking papers 
which they were discussing as they entered. 

Professor, I think we are agreed," Miss 
Walcott was saying, “ Mac gets the prize, 
James Marvin first honorable mention, and 
Madge Stuart the second." 

'' I think. Miss W alcott, I would like to go 
over Mac's and James' papers once more, they 
are so nearly equal. Can you spare a half 
hour now? " 


34 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


I am sorry, Mr. Barton, but I have an en- 
gagement at which I am now due; but if you 
will bring them around early to-morrow, I can 
give my whole time and attention to them.'' 

“Very well," sighed Mr. Barton; he was 
very tired. “ I will lock them up here for to- 
night, there is not a soul in the building, even 
young Marvin has gone out in the country to 
spend Sunday with his old grandmother; I 
saw him start." 

So saying, Mr. Barton laid the essays care- 
fully in his desk, locked it, put the key in his 
pocket and he and Miss Walcott walked ofif, 
locking the office door behind them. 

But, after all, their conversation had been 
overheard; James Marvin having returned to 
his room for something he had forgotten, was 
an eager listener to every word. 

An ugly, threatening look came over his 
face when he heard Miss Walcott say she 
thought Mac had won the prize. He instantly 
determined that Mac's essay should be lost or 
destroyed, and it was really a very easy mat- 
ter. No one but himself knew that the key 
of the office desk would open Mr. Barton's 
private one. Marvin had practiced several 
dishonesties with this same means, and had 
never been suspected. As for the office door 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


35 


being locked, it was an easy matter to get out 
of the window which opened into the outer 
hall, and make his way out of the cellar win- 
dow. 

James’ good angel strove m vain to help the 
boy, but smothering the voice of conscience, 
he quickly accomplished his evil task. 

Opening the desk he pushed Mac’s essay 
down between the linings where it was com- 
pletely hidden; somehow he could not bring 
himself to destroy it. Getting through the 
window as he had planned, he was soon out- 
side of the building, unseen by anyone. 

Great was the commotion and consternation 
at school Monday, when the loss of one of the 
prize papers was announced. 

Calling the school to order, Mr. Barton, 
looking very grave, said that the judges had 
decided that Mr. James Marvin had won the 
prize, while Miss Madge Stuart’s paper had re- 
ceived honorable mention. 

Then, allowing the tumultuous applause to 
subside, Mr. Barton continued: 

I feel it my duty, in view of the disagree- 
able circumstances of the affair, to inform the 
school that an essay which stood an equal 
chance to win the prize with that of Mr. Mar- 
vin’s, has been stolen from my desk, when and 


36 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


how, I shall do my best to ascertain. Both 
desk and door were locked, and there was no 
one in the school when Miss Walcott and I 
left it, about five o'clock. 

But we decided that it would be unjust to 
Mr. Marvin and Miss Stuart not to render our 
decisions, so we have awarded the essays as 
I have just said; but I shall not rest until the 
thief is discovered." 

Madge's eyes happened accidentally to fall 
upon James Marvin as Mr. Barton spoke, and 
she saw a quick look of guilty terror flash over 
his face at Mr. Barton's stern words. She sus- 
pected him from that moment, but kept her 
suspicions to herself. 

What a storm of indignation there was, the 
school was aroused and indignant as it never 
had been before, nothing else was discussed 
that day, and it began the next, until Mac 
spoke up. 

He was standing with a group of boys and 
girls in the neutral playground; indignation 
ran high, and a very hot discussion was going 
on when Mac impulsively broke in with: 

I say, let's agree to let the whole thing 
slide, don't let it spoil our Christmas holidays; 
we are all glad that Marvin won, and we know 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


37 


there is not a thief in our school, so here's to 
'91 (Marvin's class): 

Rah, rah, Randall! 

Rah, rah, ’91. 

WeVe burned the student’s candle, 

NOW we’re in for fun? 

Rah! rah! rah!” 

So, after all, thanks to Mac, school closed 
pleasantly, amidst laughter and song. 

“ Bless that boy," said Miss Walcott, who 
had overheard Mac's little speech, he has ac- 
complished more for ' peace on earth ' in two 
minutes than I have been able to do in two 
days." 


CHAPTER III. 


M ac had invited James Marvin to spend 
Christmas with him, on Monday at 
school, and at the same time con- 
gratulated him heartily upon winning the 
essay prize. 

His invitation had been sullenly refused at 
first, but Mac was not to be repulsed. He in- 
sisted upon Marvin’s coming, and, thinking 
possibly the reason he declined was that he 
lived so far out in the country, he asked him 
to stay over night. 

James gave a surly assent. His manner 
puzzled genial Mac, and provoked him a bit. 

You don’t like to do a fellow a kindness and 
have him look at you as if he would like an 
excuse to hit you one under the ear,” he 
thought. '' Never mind, dad will thaw him 
out, and somehow I know he don’t like me.” 

Christma*s day dawned bright and beautiful 
with just enough snow for Santa Claus to 
drive his reindeers and sleigh. 

The Stuarts and Willistons attended the five 

38 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


39 


o'clock Mass, which Mac served, the older 
members receiving Holy Communion. 

It was a quaint custom in the old church 
which had stood there for nearly a century, 
for the children to sing the Adeste Fideles," 
which they did with great sweetness and 
power, their fresh young voices reminding 
their careworn, sorrowful elders of the angelic 
music which had announced to the humble 
shepherds the birth of the Saviour of the 
world. 

The soft light of the sanctuary lamp fell di- 
rectly on Mac's curly, brown head, as he knelt 
in fervent prayer with a« look upon his boyish 
face which made Captain Williston pray. 

God bless my boy, and keep him good and 
puie for his mother, and help me to take her 
place." 

It had been decided that the Stuarts would 
dine at home and have their own Christmas 
festivities before coming over to help with the 
Williston's. As it was, even the borrowed 
extra large '' round top " from the colonel's 
was a bit crowded by the time all the guests 
and the two hosts were seated, — fourteen in 
all. 


40 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


Mike in his best ex-cavalry full dress, white 
gloves and all, announced, with a flourish, that 
dinner was served, and marshalled them out 
to a sight many of the poor homeless ones 
present had never seen. 

The table, beautiful with Christmas roses, 
cut glass, and shining silver, made them realize 
that their host was giving them of his very 
best, as he would to his most honored guests. 

The eyes of the lonely girl, who taught the 
little French district school, filled with sudden 
tears. She was too poor to afford her fare to 
the little Canadian village she called home, 
and she had expected to spend the holy day 
in her cold lodging, but Madge had heard of 
her and Mac had written her a special invita- 
tion. 

“ Tatroog’s '' mouth and eyes were opened 
wide, and the look of astonishment remained 
all evening. 

Even James softened up and lost his usual 
sullen, disagreeable manner beneath Captain 
Williston's cordial smile and genial hospitality. 

And what a good dinner Delia gave them! 
No French fixings and fussings,'' as she her- 
self said; and Mike waited upon each one of 
these poor ones, as if he had been serving the 
general of the army. 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


41 


After dinner the Stuarts arrived, young and 
old, also Sergeant Connors and his entire six. 
Mac and Madge disappeared for a few mo- 
ments, then the parlor doors were rolled back 
and a huge tree stood revealed in all its shin- 
ing splendor. 

Mac and Mike had tramped the country for 
miles around to find one big and beautiful 
enough for the occasion. 

Such gifts as hung from its generous 
branches ! 

The homesick little teacher received a silver 
mounted purse, with a round-trip ticket to 
Saint Pierre, and a bright new five-dollar gold 
piece. 

Tatroog a fur cap, a pair of gloves, 
and a heavy overcoat. The younger guests 
all sorts of useful and pretty things. 

James Marvin was the last name to be 
called. Madge handed him a substantial boy- 
ish pocket-book, saying, Open it.’' 

When he saw two crisp ten-dollar bills he 
mumbled out a confused thank you and actu- 
ally fled from the room in apparently the most 
ungracious way. 

Well, of all the ungrateful,” began Madge, 
but her mother stopped her impetuous speech, 
gently. 


42 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


I saw his face, daughter. Poor boy, he 
meant no ingratitude, he rushed off to hide his 
emotion.'' 

Mrs. Stuart was right, the poor fellow, thor- 
oughly overcome with the generous spirit of 
his kindly hosts, was softened as he had never 
been before in all his lonely, friendless young 
life. His dishonorable secret weighed upon 
him like lead, but he had not the courage to 
confess it and make restitution. He had been 
brought up with only the barest of religious 
training, a little chapel going and Bible read- 
ing comprised the whole of it. He returned 
to the room presently with a curiously soft- 
ened look upon his rather hard young face. 

“ I knew dad would thaw him out," Mac 
whispered to Madge. 

But the girl thought to herself, ‘‘ The coals 
of fire are beginning to burn," for the whole 
school knew now that it was Mac's paper 
which had mysteriously disappeared, and 
Madge was not the only one who suspected 
that young Marvin could give some informa- 
tion regarding it. 

At last the happy guests took leave. 
James went up stairs to his room leaving Mac 
to say good night to his father. 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


43 


Have you had a happy Christmas, my 
son?” the Captain asked. 

'' The best I ever remember, sir, and thank 
you once more for all my lovely gifts to-day.” 

It has been a happy day for me, too, Mac. 
You have made my thank-offering a great suc- 
cess. I know your mother is proud of her 
boy to-night. Now, good-night, and God 
bless you and grant us many more ‘ Happy 
Christmases ’ together/’ 

But the sentries were calling three o’clock 
before Captain Williston turned out his light. 
He had been keeping a vigil beside a lonely 
grave in the far-away South, a grave over 
which roses and violets bloomed all the year 
around, where Mac’s young mother lay quietly 
sleeping. 


CHAPTER IV. 

T he next morning the young people of 
the post decided to have a skating 
party; the Saranac between the upper 
dam at the pulp mill and the lower one at the 
gas works was frozen over as smooth as glass, 
and was strong enough to bear safely, if no 
one skated too close to the dams. 

The boys and girls met at ten o’clock on 
Captain Williston’s porch; and such a merry 
crowd. James would have liked to have got- 
ten out of going with them, his miserable 
guilty secret made him feel very little like 
merry making; but they would not listen to 
any excuse. 

Mac, with kindly boyish generosity had in- 
sisted upon James trying the fine new skates 
which were one of his own Christmas gifts. 

'' You are out and out the best skater in 
the High School, old man, so take them, and 
do your best to cut out those Princeton and 
Cornell fellows that are up here for the vaca- 
tion; they are such braggers.” 

44 



EMILIO AGUINALDO Y FAMY 



THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


45 


It was a glorious morning for sport, and 
even James threw off his depression and joined 
in the mirth and fun. An unfortunate chance 
remark upset all. 

Madge was’ skating swiftly up the river 
when James joined her. He had a shy, awk- 
ward admiration for the bright, warmhearted 
girl, but he hardly ever dared speak a word 
to her. Even now he asked her very humbly 
if he might skate with her. 

'' Why, certainly, James,'’ Madge replied, 
trying to make her answer seem cordial and 
pleasant, but she found it difficult, for she 
honestly could not like the boy. 

As they flew along together, the bracing 
air, the exhilaration of James' favorite sport, 
one in which he knew he excelled all, went to 
his head and made him forget his guilt and 
his usual shyness. 

He talked, and talked well. 

How well you skate, James," remarked 
Madge. '' No one can equal it, not even Mac.” 

‘‘ Well, it's the only thing I can beat him 
at," was the quick, rather bitter reply, even 
his essay was better than mine." 

What do you know about Mac's essay ? " 
demanded Madge quickly, all her half for- 
gotten suspicions roused instantly. 


46 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


‘‘Why, nothing, nothing. Why should I? 
What do you mean? was the hesitating, con- 
fused answer. 

“ Oh, I don’t mean anything more than 
you do,” said Madge significantly. “ It seemed 
rather a peculiar remark to make, under the 
circumstances she concluded coldly, then 
turned and left him abruptly. 

A wave of hot anger, then intense shame 
and misery swept over poor James. “ She 
suspects me,” he groaned inwardly. And he 
skated on, his eyes blinded with sudden tears; 
but there was still no thought of confessing 
his misdeed. 

Preoccupied by his own bitter thoughts, 
James did not notice that he had skated be- 
yond the safety line, when loud shouts from 
behind warned him of his danger. 

He stopped quickly and had hah turned 
to go back, when, with a loud crack, the ice 
beneath him gave way, and he sank in the 
waters' which ran very swiftly here. As he 
came up, he managed to hold on to the edge 
of the ice and shouted for help, which came 
almost as he called. 

Mac had come to the rescue with all the 
speed of which he was capable. Throwing 
himself cautiously down on the thin ice he 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


47 


Stretched out at full length and seized the 
drowning boy by his collar and held on with 
grim determination, knowing that help was 
coming, and all would be well if only the ice 
would bear. 

For one terrible instant Madge closed her 
eyes, expecting Mac would break through, 
then with a fervent prayer for help, she called 
to the other boys to break off a fence rail and 
hurry to the spot. 

It was not the first accident on the ice that 
the boys had seen, so they knew exactly what 
to do. The long fence rail was pushed out 
carefully to Mac, one boy crawled out and re- 
leased Mac, whose arm was numb with ’the 
cold when he came back. 

Another boy slid himself along cautiously, 
then the two together lifted James out, now 
unconscious. 

It was a brave, plucky rescue all around; 
but Mac had borne the brunt of it, he was wet 
and frozen down to his waist. Carrying 
James on an improvised litter, the whole 
crowd started back to the post on a quick run. 
Fortunately the barracks was close at hand. 

Madge and Mac had rushed ahead to tell 
Delia that their ^uest was being brought home 
nearly frozen and drowned. 


48 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


''What will it be next time?'’ groaned 
Delia. That was all she said, as she bustled 
around getting hot blankets and hot-water 
bottles ready for the doctor's use. 

Dr. Carey worked over the poor boy some 
time before he brought him out of his un- 
conscious condition, but he was in a burning 
fever and knew no- one. Mac had hurried off 
to tell his father all about the accident^ but the 
doctor sent after him and sent him to bed, 
much to the boy's disgust. 

Poor Madge felt as if her speech had sent 
James to his accident, and she was in a most 
mournful state sobbing out her grief on 
“ Momsie's " shoulder. 

'' Momsie, it was my horrid tongue which 
caused the trouble, I as much as told poor 
James I thought he stole Mac's essay. If he 
dies it will be my fault and I shall feel like a 
murderer, or murderess," and she wailed 
loudly, refusing all comfort. 

'' Rash judgment is a real sin, little girl," 
said mother, '' but I do not think you need 
hold yourself responsible for the ice breaking 
though, that was purely an accident. Be very 
careful and never mention your suspicions to 
anyone." 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


49 


James' illness turned out to be very serious, 
indeed. Captain Williston would not hear of 
his being moved to the hospital, as Dr. Carey 
suggested. 

'' Delia and Mike are both capital nurses, 
and Mac and I will help, too," said the cap- 
tain. 

The first time Mac entered the sick room, 
James raved wildly at him, begging him to 
forgive him and became so agitated that Dr. 
Carey forbade Mac to enter the room again. 

When school opened again James was ly- 
ing in the pretty guest room, out of danger, 
perfectly conscious, but too weak to move or 
talk. But, as his strength returned, so did 
the recollection of his sin, he could bear the 
burden of it no longer. One evening in the 
twilight visit of Captain Williston he sobbed 
out the whole pitiful story and begged him to 
help him. 

Captain Williston, though pained at the 
disclosure was not entirely unprepared, for 
James had told a great deal of the story in his 
delirium. 

I am glad your good angel has induced 
you to confess your dishonesty, James," said 
the captain, gently. He felt very sorry for 


50 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


the young sinner, though he hated his sin. 
“ You have won half the battle.’’ 

I know it, sir,” replied the boy with a sigh 
of relief. '' I feel better already, and now, sir, 
Mac must have the prize, and I will acknowl- 
edge what I have done, then I shall go away. 
I am not brave enough to go back to school, 
they will all hate and despise me.” 

If you were a Catholic, James, I should 
call Father Smith into our counsel, he could 
help us, I know.” 

'' Send for him. Captain,” whispered the 
poor lad meekly. “ He is so good to every- 
one, he will help me, I know, and I’m nothing 
at all, I have no religion. I like yours and 
Mac’s, sir. I always hated Mac just because 
he had everything and I had nothing and 
everyone liked him and hated me. I was al- 
ways mean to him, but he never seemed to 
mind, but went on being kind. Then I stole 
the prize from him, and he had me here for 
Christmas, and saved my life and all, — then 
when he knows the truth he will despise me, 
and I would die for him now if I could,” 
ended the poor lad in a burst of honest emo- 
tion. 

No one need ever know of your sin, 
James, save us; don’t worry now, my boy, 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. $1 

you are worn out, anyway. I promise you 
one thing, Mac will never despise you for 
confessing your sin like a man, and living 
it down honestly.^’ 

Through Father Smith's kindly agency, the 
prize money was restored, the lost essay found, 
and no one knew the secret of its disappear- 
ance save himself. Captain Williston, Profes- 
sor Barton, and Miss Walcott. 

The professor decided that the school must 
try again for the D. A. R. prize, and requested 
that the disagreeable incident be allowed to 
sink into oblivion, which decision the boys 
and girls heartily applauded. 

When James was convalescent, he earnestly 
requested Father Smith to instruct him in the 
truths of the holy Catholic Church. It was 
now the latter part of January and in a few 
weeks he was to receive baptism; Captain Wil- 
liston was to be his godfather. 

During his illness his old grandmother had' 
died, leaving the boy absolutely alone in the 
world. 

The morning of February 5th, town and 
post were intensely excited by the newspaper 
reports of the fighting of February 4th, in 
Manila. 


4 


52 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


'' I am afraid that means orders for us,'^ 
said Captain Williston at breakfast table that 
morning. 

That very afternoon James had a long talk 
with the captain, the result of which was, if 
the ‘‘51st” were ordered to the Philippines, 
James was to be allowed to enlist in “ G,’’ 
Captain Williston’s company. 

Mac looked rather glum when he learned 
of this; he envied his friend, — for he and 
James were real friends now, — his good for- 
tune, but he did not even mention to his 
father the idea of his going, knowing he could 
never change him on this subject. 

As they sat at the dinner table the evening 
of the sixth, the bell rang, Mac answered it, 
to find the colonehs orderly standing there, 
with a telegram. 

The commanding officer’s compliments, 
and will Captain Williston read this,” handing 
Mac the thin slip of yellow paper, which plays 
such an important part in the affairs of men. 

After his message was delivered properly, 
the orderly’s stiff official manner instantly 
changed. He was not much more than a boy 
himself, and his Irish blue eyes were shining 
with excitement. 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


53 


''Ifs orders for Manila! Mac, me boy,^' he 
whispered confidentially. 

And so it was. The “51st’’ was ordered 
to leave Randall barracks in five days' time 
for San Francisco, there to take the first avail- 
able transport for Manila. 

Poor Mac, he went around with white-set 
face helping his father get his own things in 
order, for the Captain was so busy with look- 
ing after his men, that he had no time to spare 
to see after his own outfit; but Mac knew 
exactly what was needed, and he and James 
with Delia's and Mike's help, soon had every- 
thing in readiness. 

James was promptly enlisted, and that same 
afternoon he went down to the Rectory and 
was baptized; making his first Holy Com- 
munion the next morning, when Father Smith 
said a soldiers' Mass for the men going off 
to fight, when hundreds of them took ad- 
vantage of this opportunity to go to*confession 
and receive what to many poor gallant souls 
proved to be their '' Viaticiimf' 

The day before the regiment was to leave, 
Captain Williston got a telegram from his 
brother-in-law. Major McLean, who was sta- 
tioned at the Presidio at San Francisco, invit- 


54 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


ing Mac to come out with the regiment and 
stay with them. 

‘‘ Can you be ready by to-morrow, Mac/’’ 
asked his father. “ You just bet I can,” was 
the quick response, and ready he was, when 
promptly at two o’clock the next day Flynn, 
the oldest bugler in the regiment, sounded the 
assembly. 

The High School was down at the station 
in full force to give Mac and James a good 
send off, for Mac had been the most popular 
boy in the school. 

The foot-ball eleven were inconsolable at 
his loss; while as for James, though he was 
not so well liked, yet every boy and girl was 
proud to think that one of their own number 
was to fight for the flag in the far-distant 
country. 

So when '' G ” Company swung by, the trim 
looking young private in the rear rank re- 
ceived an ovation from his enthusiastic school- 
mates, who also showered him with more sub- 
stantial tokens of their regard, in the shape 
of cakes, preserves, fruit, etc. 

The men of G ” Company lived well the 
whole long journey across the continent. As 
the first section of the long troop train pulled 
out, with the band playing a “ Hot Time,” and 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


55 


the crowds cheering, the very last person both 
boys saw was Madge Stuart, waving her 
High School flag, smiling brightly at them 
while the tears poured down her cheeks. 

She was sending off her own dear father and 
her best friend Mac. 

For the present the women and children 
were to keep their quarters at the post; Cap- 
tain Williston had obtained permission to 
keep his, likewise, with Delia and Mike in 
charge. 


CHAPTER V. 


T he eight days' journey across the con- 
tinent was very wearisome, with only 
one little excitement to vary the 
monotony ; when on pulling into a small Colo- 
rado town, the First Battalion found the whole 
place on fire^ and so promptly did they go at 
it, that in half an hour the town was saved. 

They had a two hours' wait there, so the 
good women of the town, to show their grati- 
tude to the “ boys," served them a fine supper 
at the town hall, and sent them off loaded 
down with all sorts of good things. 

California seemed truly the land of sunshine 
to the northern men, straight from the snow 
and ice of Lake Champlain, as their train 
rolled down the fertile slopes of western Cali- 
fornia, one balmy February morning; flowers 
in bloom and fruit growing on the trees. 

As the long troop trains were disembarked 
at the Oakland depot, a large and enthusiastic 
crowd marched with the ‘‘51st " down to the 
ferry which carried them across the bay to 
San Francisco. 


56 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


57 


Regiments for the Philippines were still a 
novelty, and were sure to be centers of in- 
terest. 

A still larger crowd had gathered at the 
Oakland ferry slip to see the '' regulars come 
in. Colonel Randall had orders to march his 
regiment straight out to the Presidio; so the 
long blue columns of stalwart fellows swung 
up Market street to the stirring tune of 

Garry Owen,’’ while the crowd cheered and 
showered the soldiers with fruit of all kinds. 

Mac, on his spirited pony, rode with the 
colonel at the head of the column, and was 
the envy of every boy who saw him. The 
camp of the ''51st” was on a fine site, on 
a gentle slope . of the hill, overlooking the 
Golden Gate. 

By nightfall their camp was in perfect order, 
the long rows of company streets, the cook 
tents, where the soldier cooks were busily pre- 
paring supper, the colonel’s big wall tent, in 
front of which floated the regimental colors, 
and the tents for the field and staff; all as if 
the '' 51st” had been in camp days, instead 
of hours. 

The evening gun had boomed out from 
every post in the harbor, and the band had 
just finished The Star Spangled Banner,” 


58 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


and Mac had turned to go to the mess tent 
for supper (he had obtained permission to re- 
main in camp with his father), when a boy’s 
shrill piercing voice- began to call out the even- 
ing papers. 

‘‘ Evenin' Chronicle! Bulletin ! Evenin' 
papers! All about the famous Fifty-first. 
Have one, young fellow? ” to Mac. 

Yes, I will,” he answered, amused at the 
boy’s coolness. Who are you? ” 

'' Well I might ax yer the same, but I mind 
me manners fer onct, and tell ye me name 
wid out a cint’s charge aither. 

'' Me name proper is William McGuire 
Brady of St. Patrick’s parish and Father 
Howard’s Boys’ Night School; but they 
mostly call me ‘ Bawling Bill ’ of the Bush 
street gang, on account of me beootiful voice. 

Listen till I show you.” 

And the small gamin at once began a series 
of shrill ear-piercing yells and cries, which 
made Mac put his finger in his own suffering 
members, and begged his new found friend 
to desist. 

'' They’ll run you into the guard tent. Bill, 
if you don’t let up,” he warned. 

'' Say, I’ve given ye me name straight, 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


59 


what’s yer own?” demanded Bill as he ceased 
his yelling. 

“ MacLean Williston. I belong to the 
‘famous 51st/ my father is captain of 
‘ G ’ Company. That’s why I am investing 
all my spare cash in your papers,” said Mac 
scanning the sensational head lines, of the ac- 
count describing the arrival of the regiment, 
and smiling at the numerous so-called photo- 
graphs of the different officers. Mac grinned 
as he read beneath a cut of a stout, full- 
whiskered individual, “ The gallant hero of 
San Juan, Captain Edward Williston.” 

“ Poor dad,” he murmured, “ it looks like 
the old quartermaster sergeant; but. won’t he 
be mad, he hates this sort of thing.” 

“ He’s a stunner, ain’t he? ” commented 
Billy with genuine admiration. “You bet he 
is, Billy, but this picture don’t half do him 
justice. Wait till you see him.” 

“ My, sunthin smells good,” said Billy, 
sniffing hungrily a certain appetizing odor of 
hash and coffee which began to steal out from 
the company kitchens. 

“ Supper,” said Mac. “ It’s late to-night on 
account of getting everything settled.” Sud- 
denly Mac gazed at the sharp, rather pinched 
face of the ragged boy before him. 


6o 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


Say, did you have your dinner to-day?” 
he asked. 

'' Nope, I didn’t, too busy follerin’ you’s 
out here,” was the brief independent answer. 

But Mac knew better ; the boy’s white thin 
face, now that he looked carefully, showed 
that he was often too busy to get his dinner. 

''Well, stay to supper with 'G’ Company, 
Billy. I’ve a friend who will look after you 
and see that you get all the slum you can 
eat;” and Mac immediately led the way to 
Marvin’s tent, where James took charge of 
him at supper, then gave the homeless lad 
an extra pair of blankets and a bed sack filled 
with sweet clean straw and told him he might 
bunk in his tent. 

Billy was almost speechless with gratitude 
to his new found friends, but none of the three 
realized what far-reaching results would ensue 
from this careless boyish kindness. 

Billy attached himself with dog-like affec- 
tion to Mac and James and soon became a 
fixture in " G ” Company, where he ran er- 
rands, blacked boots, and made himself gen- 
erally useful, so that soon he was a great 
favorite with the men. He was the self-ap- 
pointed guide and guardian of his two friends 
in their exploring rambles through the city. 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 6 1 

for he knew every nook and corner of San 
Francisco, and had many friends from the 

Dago fruit dealers down on the busy 
wharves to Yun Wang, one of the Chinatown 

bosses.’’ 

Under Billy’s knowing guidance they ac- 
complished more sight-seeing in one day than 
they ordinarily would have done in three or 
four.* 

Captain Williston was amused at the odd 
friendship; but as it kept Mac diverted and 
seemed to help him to forget the inevitable 
parting, that was so soon to come, he was 
glad of it. 

He privately offered to give Billy some new 
clothes but the latter declined, saying he would 
wait until he had earned them. 

When they did “ Chinatown,” Mr. Yun 
Wang gave James some cabalistic characters 
on his visiting card, a large affair of thin pink 
paper. James in his neat uniform seemed 
to impress everyone as the ranking member 
of the party of three, and when he would have 
protested and explained, Mac would not hear 
to it, and insisted upon gravely calling him 
Major. 

Fearful and wonderful were the sights of 
Chinatown. When they went in a long under- 


62 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


ground alley to see the famous old Chinese 
woman, who with her hundred pet cats lives 
in a den about ten by ten, Billy had the boys 
buy a few native delicacies for her, such as 
dried oysters, raw fish, and curious sweet 
beans. 

'' I always takes her something,’' he ex- 
plained, “ because she screams and makes 
awful faces at you if you don’t, and you can’t 
sleep nights for thinking of her.” 

They called on Father Howard, Billy’s best 
friend, and learned all about his work amongst 
the street waifs of the big city. They left with 
the good priest a substantial proof of their 
interest, in the shape of a check from Captain 
Williston. 

Father Howard, with Billy’s permission, 
told the boys of his first introduction to his 
small parisnioner. He was called from his 
study one morning, bright and early, by a 
terrific peal of the bell. Hastening to the 
door, he found a youth, hat in hand and 
breathless from running. 

‘‘ Say, Fader, will you gim me one of them 
swimmin’ badges that the Cattic fellers has? 
We’re goin in dis mornin, an the fellers is 
waitin round the corner; Fll pay fer ’em to- 
night when ril sell my papers.” 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


63 


Billy got his scapulars, of course, on the 
promise that he would come back to night 
school ; and now from a thorough little 
heathen, hardly knowing what God meant, 
save in sacrilege and profanity, he had become 
a good practical Catholic, having just made 
his first Communion and been confirmed. 

He was, also, a member in good standing of 
the “ White Cross League,'’ whose members 
took a pledge not to drink nor use tobacco 
until they were twenty-one, also to do all in 
their power to promote purity. 

Mac and James learned of Billy's brief his- 
tory from Father Howard, all that the priest 
could tell them. 

The boy was an orphan, with no relations 
that he knew of. He had lived with a dreadful 
old wretch of a woman, who claimed that his 
mother when she died had left the boy to her 
care; but as soon as Billy was old enough, he 
had taken literally to the streets, earning a 
precarious livelihood as best he could, fight- 
ing, swearing, smoking with the other little 
waifs of the slums, until Father Howard had 
gotten a hold on his warm, grateful little heart, 
and rescued the boy from a living death. 

He has great influence with his com- 
panions," Father Howard said, '' and through 


64 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


Billy’s coaxing and bullying them into com- 
ing to me, I have most of the ‘ gang,’ as he 
himself would express it, in my night school. ’ 

Father Howard joined the boys one morn- 
ing in their sight-seeing, taking them to a lit- 
tle old half forgotten chapel, which even Billy 
had never heard of, ‘‘ The Mission Dolores.” 
It was over a hundred years old, a relic of the 
Spanish occupation. It was built of adobe 
three feet thick, with tiny windows set up near 
the roof. No treacherous Indian arrows could 
surprise the kneeling worshipers, the lower 
walls, being loop-holed, so that the little 
church, in case of necessity, would be a safe 
place of refuge and defense. 

A little cemetery inclosed in a high stone 
wall lay back of the church. Here were quaint 
and curious Indian and Spanish names, and 
on several tomb stones was rudely carved 
a hand, holding a drawn knife. 

That is the sign of the ' Vigilantes,’ ” ex- 
plained Father Howard. Those who lie here 
were killed by that dreadful secret organizar 
tion known by that name. It was something 
on the plan of the southern Ku Klux Klan, 
but rapidlv degenerated from a society for the 
enforcement of law and order, to a secret, 
murderous, organized band.” 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


65 


It’s like a dime novel,” exclaimed Mac. 

''Yes,” laughed the priest, "but California 
was rather ' dime novely,’ Mac, in the days of 
' 49,’ and though it is interesting to read and 
hear about those times, I infinitely prefer the 
comfortable present.” 

The "51st” had received its sailing orders 
for March 3d, and had been assigned to the 
big fleet transport, " Arizona,” a former At- 
lantic liner. " No. 20,” she was- on the trans- 
port list. 

The three boys made almost daily pil- 
grimages to her, watching with deepest in- 
terest the shining new coat of paint she was 
getting, the huge smoke stacks receiving a 
broad red, white, and blue stripes to show that 
the ship belonged to the army. 

They had made several friends amongst the 
ship’s crew, and never came aboard without 
a supply of tobacco or some other gifts for 
their friends, who allowed them all sorts of 
privileges. 

The day the regiment got its orders, Billy 
screwed up his courage to go and ask per- 
mission of Captain Williston to go with " G ” 
Company to Manila; but his services were 
politely, but firmly declined. 


66 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


He received scant sympathy from Mac, to 
whom he went for consolation. 

You see, Bill, it’s like this; dad would be 
awfully glad to have us with him, if we were 
only at Manila; but he won’t let us go, know- 
ing we are better off here.” 

'‘How about Jimmy?” James had long 
ago became Jimmy to his two friends. 

" Oh, he’s different, he’s enlisted to try for 
his commission.” 

" Onct we was there he wouldn’t mind 
though.” Billy mused, he thought hard all 
that day and when night came, he confided a 
plan to Mac, under a promise of secrecy, which 
greatly excited that young man. 

All the next day the two were seen in ear- 
nest excited confab, and finally James, after 
promising absolute secrecy, was confided in. 

The 3d of March dawned cold, gray, and 
misty. The fog was so thick that everything 
appeared vague and indistinguishable through 
it, and so wet, as to be almost a rain. 

The regiment was aboard by seven o’clock 
and a few moments later the big ship was 
steaming slowly down the bay, blowing her 
fog horn vigorously. 

The last good-byes had been hurried ones. 
Captain Williston had wondered at the cheer- 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


67 


fulness of Mac’s farewell, he had watched for 
his boy among the group of friends and rela- 
tives on the wharf, who stood waving to him 
until the fog shut them out. 

I couldn’t distinguish Mac,” he thought, 
but, no wonder in this mist; I only hope the 
lad saw me.” 

The ‘'51st” had received hurry orders.” 
General Otis was in immediate need of troops, 
so the regiment was to be rushed straight 
through to Manila without the customary two 
or three days’ stop at Honolulu. 

This was a great disappointment to both 
officers and men, for this little break of three 
or four days, was a delightful one. It gave 
them a chance to mail letters to the dear home- 
people, to say nothing of the opportunity to 
visit this most fascinating of islands. 

To two certain young conspirators this un- 
usual program of the War Department gave 
unmitigated delight. 

For the first five days, the weather contin- 
ued cold, wet and disagreeable; but on the 
morning of the sixth the sun came up hot 
and blazing; the electric fans were put to work, 
white duck uniforms began to appear on deck, 
and officers and men began to realize that they 

5 


68 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


were experiencing their first touch of tropical 
weather. 

Captain Williston, as new officer of the day, 
was mounting guard on the upper forward 
deck. He stood with folded arms while the 
band sounded off,’' erect and military; when 
suddenly a disturbance from the hold caught 
his ear, a confused sound of laughter and ex- 
clamations, — then some voice called out. 
Three cheers for the Fifty-first Mascots,'’ 
which were given with a vim; then springing 
up from the hatchway, followed by a crowd of 
pushing, laughing excited soldiers came Mac! 


CHAPTER VI. 


A S he caught sight of Mac’s face, Captain 
Williston turned quite white, and for 
an instant there was a terrible silence; 
while the boy’s voice, choked with emotion, 
broke as he sprang forward, crying with a 
deep sob: 

'' Oh ! dear dad, please forgive me ; I could 
not stand being left behind again.” 

My dear lad,” was all his father said, but 
Mac knew well enough from the tone of sor- 
row and care in the familiar voice how deeply 
grieved his father was. 

Captain Williston knew it was a case for 
severe discipline; Mac had so grievously de- 
fied his authority, but it was such a white- 
faced, forlorn-looking young culprit who stood 
facing him, with a look of loving appeal in 
his eyes, that the Captain found his sternness 
melting rapidly away ; so turning over the 
guard to the adjutant, he walked off to his 
cabin, bidding Mac follow him. 

Just then another boyish figure appeared 

69 


70 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


above the hatchway for an instant, then 
ducked out of sight; but not before Captain 
Williston had recognized Billy’s merry little 
Irish face. 

‘‘Are there any more of you, Mac?” the 
captain asked sarcastically, but with a sus- 
picion of a smile which greatly encouraged 
Mac. 

“ No, sir,” he replied meekly enough. 

“ Come, Billy, I want to hear from you too,” 
called the Captain grimly; and the two lads 
were marched off to his cabin, from whence 
they emerged an hour later, looking thor- 
oughly subdued and crest fallen, for Captain 
Williston said he had no doubt but that Col- 
onel Kendall would return them to the States 
by the very next transport. 

“ ril skip out if they try it,” Billy an- 
nounced decidedly, as the two boys discussed 
the situation in undisturbed privacy beneath 
the kindly shelter of one of the big lifeboats. 

“ Well, I sha’n’t,” answered Mac, knowing 
full well he could never screw up his courage 
to the point of again defying his father. 

“ The Colonel’s compliments, and he wants 
you both at his cabin this instant,” interrupted 
the orderly’s voice at their elbows. 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


71 


''What does he want?’’ inquired the two 
boys simultaneously, feeling a bit weak in the 
knees. 

Mac, who had knowru Colonel Kendall ever 
since his babyhood, stood in very wholesome 
awe of him; but to poor Billy the Colonel rep- 
resented all that was awful, so no wonder his 
voice trembled and his knees shook as he 
followed Mac aft. 

Their interview with the Colonel was con- 
siderably briefer than with Captain Williston, 
but the same explanation was made to both. 
Billy had first suggested the plan of stowing 
themselves away, Mac had agreed to it, and 
after swearing James to secrecy, had made 
him help them. Their friends in the ship’s 
crew had smuggled them aboard at the last 
moment to as comfortable a place of conceal- 
ment as was possible in the dark, stifling hold. 

Marvin, much against his will, had agreed 
to keep them supplied with food, and all had 
gone well until the intense heat of the tropics 
had forced the boys out of their hiding place. 

It made little difference that they had to 
come out after only five days, as the trans- 
port was off the beaten track, and not 
likely to see a ship; also, as they were not to 
stop at Honolulu, there was no way in which 


72 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


the stowaways could be sent back to the 
United States. 

The Colonel let them finish their rather 
rambling tale, then said dryly: 

“ Fve no doubt we shall find a homeward- 
bound transport ready to leave when we reach 
Manila. In the meantime, Mac, I appoint you 
my unofficial aid, and your young friend here 
may assist the mess steward, for it is against 
orders to allow any unauthorized persons 
about this ship.’’ 

And so it ended well enough for the present, 
but very uncertain as to the future, though 
Billy darkly hinted that he would never be 
taken back alive. 

Life aboard the big troopship proved pleas- 
ant to both officers and men; the days slipped 
by monotonously enough and yet quickly too. 

Though Mac shared his father’s stateroom 
on the upper deck, and Billy a bunk down in 
the hold with the men, yet the two boys spent 
the greater part of the time together. 

James was very busy “ boning chevrons ” 
these days, and then too, he was a little in dis- 
grace, for both Captain Williston and Colonel 
Kendall felt as if he should never have con- 
nived at this plan of the two* younger boys. 

Reveille sounded at five o’clock; the men 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


73 


bathed on the upper deck by battalions, then 
after breakfast, were drilled for an hour. 
Guard mounting was at eight, followed by an 
hour's band concert; after which all work was 
suspended for the day, for the tropical heat 
made any exertion impossible. 

With evening the big ship seemed to awaken 
to new life and activity; the soldiers singing, 
playing, laughing and joking. Billy was in 
great demand and became very popular at 
these impromptu entertainments, for he could 
dance a cake walk and sing “ rag-time " songs 
as well as the veriest '' coon." 

So the days slipped by pleasantly if monot- 
onously. One morning they passed a group 
of low-lying rock islands in the midst of the 
vast Pacific. This was the one glimpse of 
land they had on the long journey. 

Two or three days later, shoals of huge 
sharks, with their advance guard of pilot fish, 
swarmed around the ship. The soldiers 
amused themselves by fishing for the great 
monsters. Billy caught a huge six-footer, 
which he finally landed with the assistance of 
half the ship's crew. 

The fish indicated land and the captain said 
he expected to sight Luzon on the twenty- 
sixth. It was a stifling hot night, too hot to 


74 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


try to sleep in their berths, so the three boy 
friends were lying on the upper deck talking, 
when a light blazed up suddenly on the hori- 
zon, and at the same instant the man on the 
lookout sang out: 

'' Land ahoy! ” 

In a twinkling the quiet sleeping ship was 
all excitement, officers and men eagerly dis- 
cussing this new station. 

The lights seen were the signal fires of the 
insurgents, lighted on top of the hills sur- 
rounding Manila. 

Early the next evening they steamed into 
the now famous Manila bay, being saluted by 
all the warships in the harbor, as they went 
by them, the transport flying every flag, her 
rigging manned by cheering soldiers, while 
the band played every patriotic air possible 
from the Star Spangled Banner ” to a '' Hot 
Time.'’ As the Arizona passed the huge 
English man-of-war. Powerful, her sailors 
manned the yards, cheered lustily, and when 
her ensign dipped in national salute, the Eng- 
lish band struck up The Star Spangled Ban- 
ner," followed by Yankee Doodle." The 
''51st " band acknowledged the compliment 
by responding with “ God Save the Queen " 
and Tommy Atkins." 











OLYMPIA 




THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


75 


There was a very warm feeling at this time 
between the ''Yankee’' soldier and sailor and 
his English " cousin.” 

It was a gay and most inspiring scene ; the 
great harbor with its waters of placid blue, 
the distant island hills, the warships of many 
nations with flags flying and bands playing, 
and over them all stood the Olympia and the 
American fleet, like faithful sentinels ever on 
guard. 

The three boys were far too excited for 
much sleep that night and were up at dawn 
ready to disembark, eager to land in the city 
of their desire, Manila ! 


CHAPTER VII. 


B y evening of the following day the 
“51st’’ was comfortably encamped 
on the famous seaside drive called the 
Luneta, where all Manila takes its airing after 
the intense heat of the day is over. Society 
goes in carriages, while the humbler portion of 
humanity strolls slowly along, enjoying the 
fresh, cool air from the bay, while the band 
plays patriotic and sentimental airs. 

This far-famed drive and promenade is a 
thousand feet long; the roadway broad, clean 
and smooth, runs just above the beach, 
bounded on that side by the wall, on the other 
by green fields and clumps of bamboo. 

The carriages must move from right to left, 
and during the Spanish occupation only the 
Archbishop and the Governor-General were 
allowed to drive in the opposite direction. 

Colonel Kendall was informed that his regi- 
ment would move to the front in a few days, 
so no attempt was made at establishing a per- 
manent camp. 

76 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


77 


Captain Williston gave young Marvin a 
week’s pass, and turned over to his care Mac 
and Billy. 

Remember, boys, you must be in camp be- 
fore eight every night. When you explore the 
city, keep out of the hot sun, boil your water, 
and carry it with you, and above all, all three 
of you keep together; then I shall feel as com- 
fortable as I can about you.” 

The three boys explored the city as far as 
possible, but there were many restrictions, as 
the place was under martial law, and they 
found themselves stopped constantly by sen- 
tries who had orders not to allow this, that 
and the other; still they saw a good deal after 
all, and Mac got a number of interesting 
kodaks to send Madge. 

They even met the great admiral one day, 
and had a few pleasant words with him. Mac 
told him how the Randall High School Cadets 
had celebrated the Manila bay victory with 
music, speeches, a parade, and fireworks. 

The admiral seemed pleased and amused to 
hear this, so when Mac politely asked him if 
he would mind having his photograph taken, 
to adorn the walls of the High School at home. 
Admiral Dewey was as pleasant as possible, 


78 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


and posed most good-naturedly while Mac 
snapped him off. 

Billy was so overcome at having actually 
spoken to the hero of the day that for days he 
talked of nothing else, until a most exciting 
adventure of their own gave him something 
else to think of. 

They had all three worked at their Spanish 
coming over on the transport, and Mac and 
Billy could understand it pretty well and chat 
tered away at a great rate, Billy's being of the 
“ dago " or street variety of Spanish, common 
to portions of San Francisco, while Mac's was 
decidedly Mexican, learned from his 

greaser " friend in the company. Still they 
managed with it. James had the grammar 
far better than the younger boys, but he could 
not talk it as yet. 

Every one in Manila spoke Spanish, even 
the '' Meztizos," or half-castes, who have a 
queer lingo of their own, which Mac and 
Billy were picking up in their numerous jour- 
neyings to and fro. 

Manila is built on and around the Pasig 
river, which is spanned with numerous bridges, 
over which flows the busy trade of the big 
city. 

The ancient walled city of Manila proper 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


79 


lies on the right bank of the river. With its 
medieval moats and ponderous drawbridges, 
its great stone gates, it was fascinatingly sug- 
gestive of battle and siege to our three young 
Americans. 

Here were the magnificent cathedral, 
churches, convents, massive buildings of all 
sorts. There was one which possessed a 
peculiar yet horrible interest to the youthful 
explorers. It was a huge old Spanish bar- 
racks, built three centuries ago, with genuine 
dungeons, iron-barred, and in many of them 
the heavy iron chains and fetters, which had 
bound the unfortunate prisoners, were still to 
be seen lying on the floors of the cells. 

Opposite old Manila lies the business por- 
tion of the city, its busy trade and traffic cen- 
tering in the Puesta de Espana, which opens 
on the Escolta, a long, narrow street, the 
Broadway of Manila. 

Then there is Ermita, a modern and at- 
tractive suburb, with broad, shaded avenues, 
along which are built beautiful villas, which 
had been quickly rented by the few American 
families who had followed the army to Manila. 

Old Manila was, however, the centre of in- 
terest and fascination to the three American 
boys, and here one evening the fast deepening 


8o 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


twilight found them hurrying back to camp, 
for it was nearly eight o’clock. 

They had turned up a narrow, dirty alley 
in the native portion of the town, thinking to 
make a short cut to the bridge, when they 
were arrested by sudden piercing cries for 
help, in a child’s voice, which seemed to issue 
from an apparently deserted native hut to 
their left. As they rushed forward the body 
of a child was thrown violently out from the 
open doorway, there was one terrible cry, then 
silence. 

'' They have killed it,” cried Mac, and he 
ran into the hut, followed closely by Billy, 
while James paused a moment to see if the 
child were really dead. As he lifted her — for 
he saw the child was a little girl of eight or 
ten — gently in his arms, a low moaning as- 
sured him that she lived. 

The little face and arms were covered with 
bruises and from her forehead the blood ran, 
flowing from a deep cut. 

Deftly and tenderly James bound up the 
wound with the “ first aid ” package with 
which every soldier is provided. As he did 
his work, he scanned the poor little pinched, 
starved face closely. Somehow it seemed fa- 
miliar to him. 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


8l 


'' It's Esmeralda, the little flower girl at the 
Hotel Oriente," he exclaimed. '' I haven't 
seen her in her usual place in two or three 
days. We must get her to the hospital as 
quickly as possible. I'll call the boys." 

This had taken much longer in the telling 
than in the doing, for it was not five minutes 
from the time Mac and Billy disappeared 
through the open door of the hut before James 
followed them, calling: 

'' Come on boys, she's not dead, but badly 
hurt. I'm afraid; hurry, we must get her to the 
hospital." 

But to his astonishment there was no reply, 
and the boys semed to have disappeared. 

It had grown quite dark by this time, so 
James struck a match, and fortunately found 
a rude candle, such as the natives use, on a 
small stand. Lighting this, he tried to open 
the only other door of the hut, but found it 
locked. He was thoroughly puzzled^ for he 
had not heard a sound of any kind, nor seen 
any one. 

Just then a queer sound of scuffling caught 
his ear, as of a body being dragged over bare 
boards. Hesitating no longer he threw his 
whole weight against the locked door, which 
burst open, and James found himself con- 
6 


82 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


fronted by a hu^e coal-black Negrite woman 
of a peculiarly wild, fierce aspect. 

She was fully six feet tall, with snow-white 
hair and small, red, cruel eyes, which gleamed 
with Satanic rage. She wore the usual dress 
of the native women of the lowest class, but 
strangely out of place with the poor dress, was 
a peculiar barbaric necklace of glittering white 
teeth, from which was suspended a large 
golden serpent, encrusted with diamonds. 

James’ quick observation had taken in the 
details in one glance; he realized instantly the 
full gravity of the situation. The boys had 
been entrapped into some deadly peril, he 
knew, and he must act promptly. 

Drawing his pistol quickly he covered the 
old witch with it, then said sternly: 

Release those boys at once, or I call the 
patrol.” 

The old hag did not understand a word of 
English, but she knew perfectly what the 
young soldier meant. She had no idea he 
was alone; in fact she would never have dared 
to touch the other bovs had she not thought 
them alone and unprotected. She had a whole- 
some awe of the American uniform, and at the 
sight of the slight young figure in the hated 
“ khaki/’ the old hag gave way with a 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


83 


savage snarl. She allowed James to push past 
her, where, lying on the floor, tightly bound 
and gagged, he found Mac and Billy. 

Releasing them from their decidedly un- 
comfortable position, James turned to take the 
old negress a prisoner, but she had taken ad- 
vantage of his back being turned to her to 
step noiselessly out of the low, open window 
and had disappeared. James was dreadfully 
mortified over this unforeseen mischance. 

Well, come on, you two, and tell me how 
on earth you managed to get yourselves into 
this scrape, while we carry the child to the 
hospital.’’ 

'' It’s that little girl who sells floWers at the 
Hotel Oriente, Esmeralda they call her.” Mac 
nodded; he had several kodaks of the pictur- 
esque child. 

James took the child in his arms, still carry- 
ing his pistol, however, for fear of a sudden 
attack, and all three hurried in the direction 
of the First Reserve hospital, while Mac and 
Billy related what had befallen them. 

They nad rushed headlong into what they 
thought was an empty room, and on trying 
the door, which James had broken open, they 
had felt themselves seized and drawn into the 
back room before they could make a single 


84 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


outcry. Then they had been quickly bound 
and gagged by the old woman and her ac- 
complice, a wiry little Mestizo, ’’ who had 
flown at the first sound of James’ voice calling 
to his companions. 

Mac and Billy had made agonizing efforts 
to call for help, but had not been able. It 
was their struggles to free themselves which 
James’ quick ears had caught, which enabled 
him to come to their rescue. 

They turned the little girl over to the sweet- 
faced, white-capped nurse at the hospital, then 
all three went over to the tent of the hospital 
guard, and reported -their strange adventure 
to the young Second Lieutenant in command. 

Well, boys, you have had a narrow es- 
cape,” said the young officer. I hope it will 
be a lesson to you to keep out of the slums 
at dark. Manila is none too safe in broad day- 
light; but at night anything is liable to hap- 
pen, I know, for I’ve been here almost a year 
now.” And the Lieutenant sighed; he was 
only a boy himself, and a homesick one at 
that. 

Come now. I’m going to send a file of the 
guard to see you safely into camp, and you, 
my man,” to James who stood stiffly at at- 
tention, '' report to me immediately after 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


85 


reveille to-morrow morning. I want you to 
show me this witch's den; for I strongly sus- 
pect you have unearthed the ‘ Witch of 
Tondo,' Aguinaldo's prophetess, soothsayer 
and spy. If so she will be a very valuable cap- 
ture." 

'' A witch is it," said Billy, the irrepressible. 
“ Do they eat yer, sar? " 

The Lieutenant nodded gravely. They 
say Tuliga does, and that necklace of teeth 
you describe is a dreadful souvenir of her vic- 
tims." 

Billy shuddered, his usually merry face was 
quite sober and white. 

'' ril be dramin of her," and he crossed him- 
self reverently. 

Here their escort reported, and soon the 
boys were safely in camp, where fortunately 
their absence had not been discovered. They 
decided not to speak of their night's adven- 
ture until the old witch was unearthed. 

'' It would only worry dad, and do no 
good," said Mac, “ besides, now that we are 
here, we shall have to learn to take care of 
ourselves." 

That night there was quite a fire in the 
native portion of the city, one whole street 
or alley being totally destroyed. 


86 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


The next morning, when James piloted the 
young officer of the guard to the scene of the 
last night’s adventure, a mass of blackened 
ruins was all that met his astonished gaze. 

But the young officer only smiled, and re- 
marked nonchalantly, '' Fm not surprised; I 
rather expected it when I heard the fire alarm 
last night. The birds have flown this time.” 


CHAPTER VIII. 


M ARVIN’S pass expired the next morn- 
ing and he marched on guard, so 
was unable to accompany Mac and 
Billy on their visit to the hospital, where they 
went the very first thing, to inquire for the 
small patient whom they had so strangely res- 
cued. 

They found the little girl lying in a cot in 
the nurses’ ward; she was quite sensible, but 
very weak, too weak to do more than smile 
feebly and murmur a pathetic little gracios.” 

She looked like a broken tropical flower 
herself, the poor little flower-seller of the 
'' Oriente,” her dark eyes gleaming out of a 
small dusky face, encircled with a ring of 
heavy black curls. 

The child had been terribly excited on com- 
ing to herself in the strange scenes of the 
hospital; so to calm her excitement the nurse 
told her of her timely rescue from the clutches 
of old Tuliga. This is how she understood 
who the two young Americans were. 

87 


88 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


It was several days before the boys and the 
kindly nurse together pieced out the child’s 
sad story, which some loyal wealthy Filipino 
refugees confirmed. 

Her father, Don Alvarez Camilio, was a 
wealthy Spanish planter, who owned an im- 
mense estate south of Manila, in the very 
center of the Province of Cante, a hot-bed of 
rebellion. He had been taken prisoner in the 
early part of the insurrection, his house 
burned to the ground, crops, animals, every- 
thing stolen and destroyed. 

Don Camilio had lived very much alone 
since the death of his wife, Esme’s mother, 
who had died before the little girl was old 
enough to remember her. 

The child had seen her father struck down 
that awful night when the insurgents had at- 
tacked the plantation. He had called to her 
to run, which she had done, hiding in the 
thick undergrowth until late the next day, 
when Tuliga, the wife of the big black who 
managed the native workmen, found her, and 
carried her to Manila, bidding the frightened 
child keep a silent tongue as to what she 
had seen that awful night, and also as to who 
she was. On no account was she to tell any 
one that she was the daughter of the wealthy 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


89 


Spaniard Don Camilio. Tuliga impressed this 
upon her with dreadful threats. She would be 
killed, or she would never see her father again. 

As time wore on, the money and valuables 
Tuliga had stolen the night the plantation was 
invaded, gave out, spent in riotous dissipation. 
It was then she had sent the child out to sell 
flowers, beating her cruelly when she did not 
bring back plenty of money. The beatings 
did not occur often after -the American occu- 
pation, for Esmeralda’s pretty face and win- 
ning grace of manner brought her plenty of 
customers. 

On that particular day the child had felt 
so sick that she had slept most of the day, so 
that when she returned to the wretched hut, 
which sheltered her cruel tyrant and her poor 
little self, she had only ten cents, Mexican, to 
show for the day’s work. 

Tuliga had fallen upon the child with un- 
usual fury, for she wanted money particularly; 
a Mestizo youth had arrived, bringing a mes- 
sage from her husband, who was serving un- 
der Aguinaldo, saying she must send him 
money. The woman had saved up quite a 
sum for just this occasion, but if the child had 
only done her duty, as she said, there would 


90 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


have been several dollars more to swell the 
fund. 

The half-breed youth had suggested that 
Tuliga dispose of the heavy gold necklace she 
wore, but the woman scowled fiercely, and 
muttered something about it's being a charm 
of life and death. 

The youth shuddered. He had heard of 
Tuliga's witch necklace, which if laid with evil 
intention upon a perfectly well person, would 
cause a sudden and fatal illness. It could also 
restore to health the dying, if the witch was so 
disposed. 

No wonder that the owner of this marvel 
enjoyed the reputation of a seer and prophetess 
among the ignorant, superstitious natives. It 
was even whispered that Aguinaldo himself 
owed his charmed life, for it was well known 
that their chief was bullet-proof, to the little 
amulet which Tuliga had. 

Mac decided that his father's help was neces- 
sary, so told him the whole story of their ad- 
venture. 

Captain Williston was very much interested 
in the boy's protegee, and the child fell in love 
with the tall, grave man who never came to 
see her without some little gift to amuse and 
please her. 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


91 


The Captain went with the Spanish Jesuit, 
the priest in charge of the American chapel, to 
tell the Archbishop of Manila about the or- 
phaned child. No one believed it possible that 
her father could still be alive. 

The Archbishop was deeply interested and 
promised to do all in his power for the little 
girl. 

He was greatly pleased when he learned 
that the Willistons were Catholics, and ques- 
tioned the Captain closely upon many points. 

'' Were there Catholics among the sol- 
diers? 

Six hundred. Your Grace,’' was the quiet 
reply, “ in my own regiment.” 

'‘Is it possible?” was the amazed answer. 
Then followed a long conversation, in which 
the Captain explained many things. His own 
Spanish was very halting; he could read the 
language, but much conversation was beyond 
him, and he had to depend upon the kind 
offices of Father Sanchey. 

The interview was most pleasant and satis- 
factory in every way, and Captain Williston 
knew that in the Archbishop, Esme had gained 
a kind and powerful friend. 

It was decided that she was to go to the 
Convent in old Manila, where the good nuns 


92 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


would give her every care, until her people 
in Spain could be communicated with. 

About ten days after the arrival of the regi- 
ment, Colonel Kendall received orders to 
march out to '' El Deposito,’’ or the water 
works from which the city of Manila and its 
suburbs drew its entire water supply. 

Manila was encircled by a line of strong 
intrenchments, eighteen miles in length, and 
it was only this strone guard on outpost duty 
which made Manila itself safe and kept the 
native sympathizers from an uprising inside 
of the city walls. 

The water-works ’’ was the most important 
position on the line, and subject to almost 
nightly attacks from the insurgents. 

The water supply was kept in huge stone 
basins, hollowed out of the natural rpck. It 
was pumped into these reservoirs from the 
pumping station some few miles out to the 
front, on the Mariquina river. 

The night before they were to march out 
to their place on the line. Colonel Kendall 
sent his orderly for Mac. 

See here, young man,’’ he asked, what 
is all this I hear about you rescuing fair Span- 
ish maidens and capturing Filipino witches? 
Come, make a report, sir.” 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


93 


So Mac told his tale. '' You see Marvin 
-did the rescue act, Colonel, and as to captur- 
ing, I think the Filipino witch did the most 
of that, sir,'’ and Mac grinned. 

Well, don't have any more such adven- 
tures, that's all. Remember, I have ap- 
pointed you my volunteer aid ; you are on duty 
now, so report to Mr. Banks, the Quarter- 
master, and choose a mount. I shall often 
want you to carry messages for me." 

Mac thanked the Colonel warmly and then 
started off at once to find Mr. Banks and the 
horses. 

The horses in Luzon are really small-sized 
ponies, not much larger than a big St. Ber- 
nard, but gentle, patient, strong little beasts. 

Mac chose a pretty ^orrel, with a white 
face, whom he named Tagal. 

The march out to El Deposito next day 
was a severe test for the raw recruits in the 

51st," of whom there were several hundred. 

It was frtghtfully xiot and the water sup- 
ply very scanty, but the '' rookies " were on 
their mettle. They meant to show the old 
soldiers what pluck, could do; so when the 
battalions were given their place in the line 
that night, not a man was absent or missing, 
and the Red Cross ambulances, which traveled 


94 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


slowly in the rear of each battalion to pick 
up the men worn out and exhausted, came in, 
empty of patients. 

The Colonel was immensely delighted and 
complimented the company commanders 
highly. 

“ We needn't fear,” he said, “our recruits 
are all right. Men that will march like that 
will fight when the time comes.'" 

And the Colonel’s prophecy came true be- 
fore many weeks had passed. 

An aide-de-camp of General Otis rode 
with the Colonel, and when the regiment 
reached its destination, gave them their proper 
position on the line.” 

The '‘ 51st ’' had two miles of trenches to 
guard — rather a thin line to keep out the 
sneaking, treacherous Filipino, but it was all 
that could be spared. 

Off to their left the Colorado’s pickets 
joined theirs, while off to the right some ar- 
tillery had guns mounted. The company 
streets of the ''51st ” occupied a ridge which 
wound in and out irregularly; about a hun- 
dred yards to the front was a line of intrench- 
ments, most skillfully laid out, and made by 
the insurgents, who, as usual, had abandoned 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


95 


them at the first yell of the charging Ameri- 
cans. 

The outposts of the '' 51st'’ occupied these 
trenches; and the pickets had no easy time 
trying to keep out of bullet-reach of the lurk- 
ing enemy, and see that none of their spies got 
through the American line. 

Hardly a night but the pickets would cap- 
ture a dozen or so of pretended '' Amigos '' 
smuggling information, ammunition and, es- 
pecially rice, out of the city. 

Mac, on Tagal, had personally captured half 
a dozen stalwart natives, to the envy of Billy, 
to say nothing of Marvin, who felt that his 
uniform should entitle him to rank his two 
companions, even in the capture of the wily 
native. 

Some ten days after they had been on this 
outpost duty, the 51st’’ had their first taste 
of being under fire in the Philippines. 

It was an intensely hot, dark night; the rain 
had been coming down in torrents all day 
— such a down-pour that no one had ventured 
forth from the shelter of the dripping tents, 
save those on duty. 

Tired out, Mac had turned in early in the 
evening and fallen asleep at once. The last 
sounds he had heard was the rain beating 


/ 


g6 THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 

against his tent, and the half-hour calls of 
the sentries that '' all was well.’’ He had no 
idea how long: he had slept, when suddenly 
he was awakened by, he knew not what, a 
faint, muffled call it seemed to him, but as 
nothing followed, he thought it must have 
been a dream. Settling sleepily back on his 
pillow he thought: 

“ I’ll call out to Number Six when he passes 
next time, and ask him if he heard anything.” 

Sentry Number Six was on a beat which led 
directly to the rear of Mac’s tent. 

Suddenly, as he lay there, a crackling in the 
underbrush near by caught his ear. Now he 
listened with every nerve strained to catch the 
slightest sound. 

I guess it’s pigs,” said the boy nervously. 
Those half-wild animals had been the cause 
of several false alarms in camp, and Mac de- 
termined not to make himself a laughing 
stock by sounding another one. 

Where was Number Six? He waited. Then 
the conviction flashed over him that Number 
Six was not walking his post; something had 
happened to him! 

For an instant the boy hesitated. He would 
awaken his father and let him investigate, but 
as he started over to Captain Williston’s tent. 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


97 


he heard the unmistakable click of a rifle; 
then all doubts vanished. Discharging his 
pistol rapidly, he shouted out his warning, at 
the top of his voice, arousing every man in 
the battalion and bringing in the pickets on a 
run. 

As they came charging along, the old aban- 
doned Spanish trench, which had been the 
post of luckless Number Six, poured forth a 
terrific volley, which was the signal for simi- 
lar ones all down the line.'' 

The insurgents were attempting a night at- 
tack. It was so dark that neither side could 
see a thing, save as the flash of the rifles gave 
a momentary glimpse of the grim, excited 
faces of the Americans and the top of Fili- 
pinos' hats. 

The Colonel came rushing up, buckling on 
his sword as he ran. Mac followed him, say- 
ing in a most military, if somewhat excited 
manner: '' I report for duty, sir." He was 
determined the Colonel should not forget his 
position as volunteer aid. 

Good, is that you, Mac? I can't see my 
own hand in this confounded darkness," 
gasped the Colonel. '' Run down to the third 
battalion, tell Captain Wayne to flank these 
7 


98 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


fellows on our left, then if you see your way 
clear, continue on to the Colorados and warn 
them that the enemy may possibly have got- 
ten to their rear through our line here.” 

Load your pistol,” he called out as Mac 
vanished into the blackness. Immensely 
proud of his mission, Mac flew over the 
ground, now splashing into some deep new 
water hole, made by the day's rain, now 
tripping against some unseen obstacle and 
coming down with a thump; presently he 
heard the third battalion coming on a run. 
Their own portion of the line had not been at- 
tacked. 

Shouting Captain Wayne's name, he 
stopped that oflicer long enough to deliver the 
Colonel's order, then dashed on. 

Mac had not seen his father to speak to him 
before leaving camp, for Captain Williston 
was with his battalion in the trenches before 
even the Colonel reached the scene of action. 

A group of tall palms marked the entrance 
to the camp of the Colorado volunteers, wno 
were in a great state of excitement. Mac 
could hear them shouting and running, try- 
ing to discover what was happening over on 
the ‘‘ 51st ” line. 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


99 


As he reached the first of the tall palms, 
panting and breathless, a bare foot was sud- 
denly stretched out to trip him, and down he 
went, firing his pistol as he fell. His shot 
was followed by a groan, so Mac knew he had 
hit his unknown assailant, but he could no: 
see him. 

Calling loudly for help, he felt around in 
the long grass until his hand came in con- 
tact with his wounded enemy, who immedi- 
ately began protesting that he was an 
Amigo.’' 

Mac clutched him tightly and held on to 
his captive until the Sergeant of the guard, 
with several officers, came running up with a 
lantern. 

Mac delivered Colonel Kendall’s message, 
then followed his prisoner to the field hospital 
tent, where he was immensely relieved to find 
that he had not wounded him seriously, the 
Filipino being more scared than hurt. 

In the brighter light of the hospital, as Mac 
looked at his prisoner, the man’s face seemed 
familiar; that deep, jagged, fresh scar on the 
man’s forehead, he had surely seen before. 
The Filipino grinned cheerfully at him; seem- 
ingly he bore no malice. 


LofC. 


lOO 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


He looks as if he knew me, too,'' said Mac 
to himself, still puzzled. Just as he turned 
to leave the tent, the Filipino nodded his head 
and whispered, '' Tuliga, Manila." 

Then Mac knew he was the Tondo witch's 
accomplice, and might prove to be a very 
important capture. 

Mac got back to the regiment just in time 
to seize a rifle and fire a parting shot at the 
enemy, who were retreating on a run, as the 
two flanking battalions came charging at them 
with the terrible Americano yell, which they 
feared nearly as much as their bullets. 

After the fight the sentry on Number Six 
was found dead with a knife through his heart. 
The enemy had crept upon the poor lad and 
killed him before he could know what had 
struck him. 

He was only a '' rookie " was Number Six 
but many an old soldier's eye was moist as 
he gazed on the boy's young face, stilled in 
death; and the thought came to them that this 
boy was only the first to die — many more 
would lie beside that boy before the campaign 
was over. • 

They found a Catholic Chaplain in one of 
the volunteer regiments, who came over the 
next day and buried the boy. 






MANY OF THE CATHOLIC SOLDIERS ATTENDED THIS CHURCH IN MANILA. 





THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


lOI 


When the next Sunday our three boys went 
over to the volunteer camp to Mass, it seemed 
as if half the congregation wore a 51 ’’ on 
their campaign hats, whilst numbers of them 
received Holy Communion. 

The day after the fight Mac received an 
official-looking document from regimental 
headquarters. It contained an official note of 
thanks from Colonel Kendall for his services 
of the night before and it was addressed to 
'' MacLean Williston, Volunteer Aide.’’ 

Captain Williston smiled rather sadly at his 
boy’s pride and enthusiasm. The Captain him- 
self was delighted with Mac’s achievements, 
but he remarked ruefully: 

'' Mac, Mac, I am afraid I shall never get 
you safely back home, now that you have 
^ tasted blood.’ ” 

And as it proved this was the last that Mac 
and Billy heard of being sent home on the 
next transport.” 


CHAPTER IX. 


A FEW days after the unsuccessful night- 
attack of the insurgents against 
that portion of the lines held by the 
51st/' Mac was the proud recipient of an 
official document from Division Headquarters, 
signed by General Lawton himself, confirm- 
ing his appointment as a Volunteer Aide on 
Colonel Kendall’s staff. 

The Colonel had been assigned a brigade, 
and was now in command of the line, eighteen 
miles in length, which surrounded Manila, 
reaching from San Pedro Mecatie to Caloo- 
can. 

Mac carried the order to “ G ” Company 
to show James and Billy, who were as de- 
lighted as he himself was. Billy insisted upon 
coming to attention ” every time Mac ad- 
dressed him, and answering ‘‘Yes, sor,” or 
“Yes, Lieutenant,” until Mac threatened to 
punch his head for him. 

“ Say, can you two fellows ride into Manila 
102 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


103 


this morning? I am to be measured for a new 
khaki outfit/’ Mac asked the two. 

Wid shoulder straps? ” asked Billy, the ir- 
repressible. 

‘‘ Not yet, kid, but I mean to earn them 
before this campaign is over,” was the earnest 
reply. 

We are going to have some real work to 
do before long, besides this catching of rice 
and pig-stealing natives. But I am to wear a 
‘ 51 ’ on my campaign hat and a ‘ V. A.’ on 
my blouse collar.” 

James and Billy easily obtained the re- 
quired permission, and the battalion quarter- 
master-sergeant good-naturedly furnished 
each boy a mount. 

They set off in high spirits, planning a visit 
to their little protegee at the hospital after the 
shopping was done. 

As they rode off Captain Williston called 
to them to return early, they must not, on any 
account, be between the '' lines ” after dusk. 

They rode first to Jose Roque, the little 
tailor on the Calle Anloaque, No. 4, who had 
done quite a good deal of work for the officers 
in the '' 51st.” Mac was anxious to appear in 
uniform on his birthday, which was the ensu- 
ing Thursday, June 8th; so he made the ob- 


104 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


sequious Filipino promise to have his uniform 
at the camp by nine o'clock, Thursday. 

Jose protested volubly that it was very little 
time, and that he was overrun with work, and 
all Americanos were alike, each must have 
his work '' at once, at once'' 

But Mac knew his man, so he only shrugged 
his shoulders, and answered indifferently. 

Well, no doubt, Alejandro would undertake 
to make the suit for Thursday." 

But here Jose's remarks grew so noisy that 
the boys, laughing, beat a hurried retreat, 
leaving Jose still shrilly protesting that, rather 
than have that pig of an Alejandro spoil good 
cloth — for every one knew he was no tailor, 
but a maker of pajamas; he, Jose, would work 
day and nighty and the young Senor should 
have his clothes Thursday without fail. 

After this first and most important part of 
the day's shopping was over, the boys spent a 
pleasant hour in Ramona's little shop on the 
Escolta. 

Ramona was a pretty Filipino girl of about 
twenty, with a keen sense of business. She 
kept native embroideries and trinkets for sale, 
for which she asked just as much as she was 
able to get from each customer. 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


TO5 


Here Billy was in his element; Ramona 
talked Mestizo and Billy plain American street 
slang, but they understood each other and got 
along remarkably well. 

Mac bought some drawn work for Mrs. 
Stuart, a fan for Madge, and some other 
trinkets for the children. 

James purchased a handsome piece of native 
embroidery for Miss Walcott. 

This shopping was hungry work, so they 
decided to postpone their visit to Esme until 
after tiffin '' (luncheon), which they had at 
a gorgeous-looking restaurant near The 
Bridge of Spain,” called, by its native proprie- 
tor, '' Old Glory.” A bill of fare before the 
open concha windows announced. 

Strictly Americano Cookin 
By Greatest Epicures of the Archipelago, 

Assisted by Chefs from Nu England States 
Frankfort saw sage, 

Sower kraut, 

Beans 

Pies 

All other Americano dishes! 

The boys were hungry, and went through 
the bill of fare thoroughly and earnestly; but 
when they had finished, Billy wiped his mouth 
with a very dubious-looking napkin, and 
hummed softly: 


I06 THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 

“ Same old thing, same old thing, 

With a roast or stew or broil; 

A good bit of garlic and more of olive oil.” 

Mac laug-hed, '' I like a touch of garlic my- 
self, in salad dressing, but I should be awfully 
sick of it, if we flavored everything with it, a la 
Spanish'' 

'' I can eat anything when I am hungry,” 
remarked James, '' but give me good Ameri- 
can bacon and hard bread, instead of Spanish 
garlic and oil.” 

After lunch the three paid their visit to Es- 
meralda, whom they found up and dressed. 
She greeted them warmly, and was much in- 
terested in hearing of Mac's adventure with 
the Mestizo boy. I do not remember him 
on the plantation at home,” she said, but he 
came often to Tuliga’s house, here in the city. 
I am sure he knows something of my dearest 
father.” 

'' Make him tell, Senor Mac,” the child in- 
sisted, with a flash of her black eyes. 

We will, Esme,” replied the boy. '' Be- 
tween the three of us we will get your father 
back. Nurse tells me you are to be removed 
to the Convent to-morrow, where the good sis- 
ters are to care for you. You must study hard, 
to make up for lost time.” 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


107 


Indeed I will, Senor ; I am very ignorant 
for one of my years. I hope you will come 
and see me at the Convent. Will they let 
boys in?’' she asked anxiously. 

Sure,” answered Billy, promptly, '' Ameri- 
can boys. If they don’t, we’ll get Father 
Vicente to go with us, he’s almost as good as 
an American priest.” 

The boys took leave of the little girl, prom- 
ising to come to the Convent as soon as pos- 
sible. She seemed to cling to them, as if, 
somehow, they were a visible link between 
herself and her absent father. 

When the boys returned to camp, they found 
everyone in a subdued state of excitement over 
a rumor that there was to be an active move- 
ment south, in which the '' 51st” would take 
part; but no orders came. Officers and men 
lay down with their clothes on, expecting the 
order might come any moment, but nothing 
was heard of it during the night, nor the fol- 
lowing day, nor the next : so the regiment set- 
tled down once more to the tiresome outpost 
duty of preventing the insurgents from 
passing the “ lines,” either in or out of Manila. 

The rainy season v/as beginning, and picket 
duty in the trenches during a tropical storm 
was no light task; the men in the trenches 


io8 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


walked post up to their waists in water. The 
footpath over which Captain Williston had 
ridden the day previous, to inspect his bat- 
talion, was now submerged, and formed part 
of a small lake in which the Chinese fishcnnen 
were casting their nets, and bringing out a 
curious mud fish. 

Mac’s uniform reached him safely on his 
birthday, and his father gave him a handsome 
sword and pistol. The Quartermaster sent 
him a brand new saddle and bridle for 

Tagal.” 

After breakfast the Colonel’s orderly rode 
up and, saluting gravely, delivered his mes- 
sage. '' The Colonel’s compliments, and would 
Mr. Williston report at once.” It was a very 
swell-looking young officer who obeyed the 
summions. Well done, Mac,” called the Col- 
onel, as the boy dashed up to the Headquar- 
ters tent, and he looked approvingly at the 
well set-up, trim young figure in the neat- 
fitting khaki uniform. 

'' No general on the ' line ’ has a smarter 
aide than I, nor one that rides any better, if 
as well. You must go in the cavalry, boy.” 

Mac blushed with pleasure, for the Colonel 
was a grim old soldier, not given to praise of 
his subalterns. 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


109 


Here, take this telegram from General 
Otis, along the ' line,’ to the commanding 
officer of each battalion; and, if you are sure 
you can keep a still tongue, you may read the 
message you carry.” 

'' Yes, sir,” Mac replied, with the proper 
military salute, as he started off at once on his 
errand. 

'' Remember, boy, I don’t take you into any 
fighting; you will remain in camp when the 
command goes out to-morrow.” 

A sudden lump came into the boy’s throat; 
he was only a play soldier, after all; when 
there was to be actual fighting he was to be 
left behind. 

No need to read the yellow slip; the order 
came from Corps Headquarters. Colonel 
Kendall had already told him substantially its 
contents. 

Mac rode soberly down the long line,” 
handing over the order tO' each battalion com- 
mander in turn — reaching his father last. 

Do you know the contents, Mac?” asked 
Captain Williston. 

‘‘Yes, sir; and the Colonel has told me I 
am not to go.” 

“Thank God,” was the Captain’s involun- 
tary prayer. 


1 10 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


'' But I am going to ask your consent to 
my going, dear dad,’’ continued the boy, 
earnestly. 

“ I have only one son, Mac,” was his father’s 
reply. 

And I have only one father. Let us stay 
together, dad. I know I am only a boy, sir, 
but I have been doing a man’s work, and, 
father, it is galling now to be treated as a 
child.” 

This was true, and the Captain could not 
gainsay it. 

The brown eyes met his with the strength 
and vigor of young manhood; the face, a little 
pale with suppressed emotion, was full of a 
proud determination. 

For a moment there was a silence, then the 
grayhaired officer laid his hand on the strip- 
ling’s shoulder, and said slowly and solemnly: 
''You may go, Mac, and God have you in 
His holy keeping.” 

It was like a benediction, and the young 
soldier replied in his heart with a fervent 
" Amen,” though aloud, all he said was : 

"Thank you, awfully, dad, dear; you’re a 
brick.” 

The Colonel gave in at once, when he 
learned that Captain Williston was willing. 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


Ill 


'' I should have felt the same at your age, 
youngster, but I am older now and have more 
sense,’' was all he said. 

Mac hesitated a moment before he rode off. 
‘‘ What is it, boy? Out with it.” 

Sir, may the Catholic men have a chance 
to go to confession to-night?” 

The Colonel thought a moment. '' They 
used to do it in the Civil War,” he said to 
himself, then: ''Yes; if you do not notify them 
until after taps; so get your priest, and have 
him ready between tattoo and ten o’clock, 
for by that time the order will be given to the 
companies, and there will be no need of 
secrecy.” 

Mac thanked Colonel Kendall warmly, then 
flew along the trenches until he reached the 
Wyoming Volunteers. Their Chaplain, 
Father Reynolds, was a fine man, who not 
only looked carefully after his own men, but 
did all he could for the Catholics in the whole 
brigade, celebrating Mass and hearing con- 
fessions for the different regiments in turn. 

When Mac drew Tagal up before the Chap- 
lain’s tent, he found him conversing with a 
tall, slight young priest, very neat and trim, 
indeed; evidently just landed. A transport 
had arrived only the day before. He proved 


112 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


to be Father Dean, who had come out with 
the '' 30th ” Regulars. 

On telling his errand, both priests promised 
to come, and both commended the boy for his 
thoughtfulness. Father Reynolds pressed 
him to stay to '' tiffin,” but Mac declined. 
He had one more errand to accomplish before 
night-fall, artd that was a visit to the half- 
breed youth in the field hospital of the Colo- 
rado Volunteers. He agreed with Esme, 
that the young Mestizo could give them some 
information of Don Camilio, if he could be 
made to speak. 

Obtaining permission from the junior sur- 
geon to visit his captive of the night attack, 
Mac entered the hot, dusty tent, to find the 
poor fellow feverishly tossing from side to 
side, moaning in semi-delirium. 

It was not the first sick man Mac had 
helped nurse, so quickly taking off his coat, 
he asked the soldier attendant to bring him 
cold water, and then bathed and fanned the 
poor youth into comparative comfort. He 
gave him cold lemonade to sip, a delicacy he 
sent out to purchase, for the hospital had no 
ice, save for the desperately sick. 

As he worked over the poor fellow, Mac 
was rewarded by the big black eyes losing 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


II3 


their stare of delirium. Presently the boy 
smiled, and said feebly: ‘‘ Mucha buenos, 
Americano.’' 

Do you know me? ” Mac asked. The 
boy nodded feebly. 

'' Say, Pm awfully sorry I hurt you,” said 
Mac, impulsively. The young Mestizo smiled 
and murmured: ''I meant to kill you, it is 
nothing, Sehor.” 

“ Well, Pm sorry, just the same,” said Mac 
decidedly; “ and now I have come to ask you 
to tell me where Don Camilio is, Esmeralda’s 
father?” 

They had been carrying on the conversation 
in Spanish, but at this question the patient 
pretended he could not understand. 

But Mac was patient. “ Tell me where he 
is. If you do I will look after you, when you 
are well ; you need not go and fight any more.” 

The youth shrugged his shoulders, and 
made a significant gesture, drawing his finger 
quickly across his throat. I am tired of the 
starving and fighting, Senor, and the women 
and children say you Americanos are good 
and kind, but if I, Jose Pantoja, turn ‘ Am- 
igo,’ Aguinaldo will order me killed, so ” 

again the same significant gesture. 


1 14 the two stowaways. 

But,’’ replied Mac, Aguinaldo is far to 
the north ; he is nowhere near Manila.” 

The boy shook his head. '' He is every- 
where. He has the power from Tuliga.” He 
went on in a low, mysterious whisper: You 
will never kill him, no bullet can, he wears a 
charm which the ‘ Witch of Tondo ’ gave 
him.” 

'' Nonsense, Jose, just wait until he bucks 
up against a Krag-Jorgenson,” said Mac, for- 
getting his Spanish for the moment. 

‘‘ I have seen it, myself, young Senor. 
Aguinaldo standing up, straight and tall, and 
ten, twenty y soldiers of the Filipino army shoot 
at him, and not one of the bullets can touch 
him.” 

Mac laughed impatiently, there was no 
arguing with superstition such as this. 

So I must tell poor little Esme that Jose 
will not help her to release her father from 
his cruel imprisonment. You who were born 
and grew up on the hacienda Camilio, you 
who have had nothing but kindness from Don 
Camilio himself, you will leave him to starve 
and die in an insurgent prison, while his child 
breaks her heart.” 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. II5 

Mac grew eloquent in his appeal to the 
youth’s better nature, for the vision of Esme’s 
sorrowful little face was before him. 

Jose stirred uneasily. He remembered well 
the comfort and peace which had reigned in 
the hacienda, before Aguinaldo’s agents had 
begun their secret work amongst the simple 
and contented natives. Don Camilio had 
been a kind and indulgent master, and as for 
the little Esmeralda, they had all loved the 
child for her likeness to the sweet young 
mother, whom every man, woman, and child 
on the place had adored. 

As these tender recollections revived in 
Jose’s heart, he stirred uneasily, and looked 
half angry and half sullen. 

Suddenly he whispered quickly, looking 
around suspiciously, as if afraid of being over- 
heard : To the south, beyond the bridge 
where Tuliga dwells, look for the master.*’ 
It was all very vague, but Mac was fain to be 
content, for not another word would Jose 
utter. 

Mac bid him a cheerful good-bye, and rode 
back to camp. It was a strange, solemn scene 
that the tropical moon shone down upon that 
night. Long rows of soldiers in full field 
equipment, kneeling patiently near the two 


Il6 THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 

confessionals, improvised from two shelter 
tents, dog tents ” the men called them, in 
derision, for they were not fit to shelter human 
beings. 

There was no time to say Mass, nor give 
the men Holy Communion, for when reveille 
sounded at half-past three, there were still a 
few penitents to be hurriedly absolved. 

At five o’clock promptly the bugles sounded 
the assembly,” and in dead silence the long 
line of blue was formed, and at a wave of the 
Colonel’s sabre, broke into columns, and 
swung off down the road to Manila, the ren- 
dezvous for the troops being '' The Bridge of 
Spain.” 


CHAPTER X. 

I T was frightfully hot that June morning, 
the mercury stood at 98 in the shade, 
when it was barely four o’clock. 

Every officer and man carried his own ra- 
tion and equipment, which consisted of two 
hundred rounds of ammunition for each man, 
and a half a shelter tent; two men bunking 
together. 

Later on in the campaign, Chinese coolies 
were provided to carry the rations and tent- 
age for the soldiers. 

Canteens were filled to the brim with boiled 
water as the assembly sounded, and each 
company officer cautioned his men not to 
waste one drop of the precious fluid, as all the 
ponds and streams near the coast were 
brackish and utterly undrinkable. 

A regiment of volunteers had taken the 
place on the “line,” which the “51st” had 
been guarding. 

Colonel Kendall, with the brigade surgeon, 
his adjutant, and quartermaster, rode at the 
head of the command. 

117 


Il8 THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 

Captain Williston, at the head of his bat- 
talion, rode a little to their rear, and at his 
side Mac on Tagal. 

James had been made a lance corporal only 
the night before, and he was marching along, 
very proud, indeed, of his one thin white 
stripe, which, truth to tell, he had made of a 
piece of white bandaging he had gotten from 
a hospital corps man ; there being no time to 
find anything better. 

Billy would have been left behind, save that 
the teamster who drove the Red Cross ambu- 
lance gave him a lift. He knew how quick 
and handy the boy was, and there would not 
be much danger of his being hurt if he kept 
to the rear with the hospital corps. 

No one, not even the Colonel, knew the 
exact location for which they were headed. 
Several expeditions had had their object de- 
feated, by the enemy in some way getting 
wind of the plan of campaign, so this time no 
one, save the commanders themselves, knew 
the object and destination of this expedition. 

The 51st ’’ were the first to reach the ren- 
dezvous named in the order, The Bridge of 
Spain ; ” but the other regiments came up 
rapidly, and General Lawton, on his big white 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. II9 

horse, dashed up to assume command of his 
division. 

Well to the front he rode, accompanied by 
his staff officers. Tall, slender, and well-built, 
he was every inch a soldier. Brave, and ab- 
solutely fearless under fire, he had the faculty 
of inspiring those under him with his own 
courage and fearlessness. 

The heat had become overpowering, and as 
the troops marched, a long, silent procession, 
first one blue-shirted figure, and then another, 
and another, dropped from the ranks. Al- 
ready the surgeons were busy, and yet not a 
bullet had been fired. 

Generals Wheaton and Ovenshine were in 
command of the two brigades, which con- 
sisted of regular infantry, Nevada cavalry, ar- 
tillery, and the Washington volunteers. 

The ‘‘ Sist ’’ was in Wheaton’s Brigade, and 
before long word came that they were to 
march south to Paranaque, clearing the coun- 
try in Cavite province of rebels, who were 
reported to be strongly entrenched at the Za- 
pota bridge, near Imus. As Mac heard 
Colonel Kendall inform his father of their 
destination, suddenly Jose’s words flashed 
into his mind. '' To the southy beyond the 
bridge, where Tuliga dwells, look for the mas- 


120 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


ter.’’ Certainly they were marching due 
south, and before night would be beyond the 
bridge. Mac was intensely excited at the 
thought of his surmise proving true. He 
rode back to acquaint Marvin of his hopes, 
whereupon James, too, became excited. As 
they talked the man in ranks next to James 
wavered, groaned, and fell heavily to the 
ground ; but no one of the line paused an im 
stant to help. A hospital man from the rear 
rushed up, and soon a litter was carrying the 
unfortunate man off. 

'' It is his own fault,” commented James, 
shortly ; '' I’ve warned him to let his canteen 
alone, but he drank it dry before we had been 
a half-hour out. Don’t touch yours, Mac, 
until you can’t hold out one instant longer, 
and then not too much. The heat knocks 
one out quicker than a Mauser.” 

Mac nodded acquiescence to his friend’s 
good advice as he rode off. 

It was scarcely six o’clock when the troops 
wound up the hillsides and formed a skirmish 
line behind the American trenches. 

The ‘'51st ” was the first to strike the rebel 
outposts, who delivered a scattering fire and 
then broke and ran — the foremosl company 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


I2I 


of Captain Williston’s battalion in hot pursuit, 
yelling as they charged. 

Gen. Wheaton had swung his brigade west- 
ward to Paranaque, being their destination 
first, for here, report said, the main body of 
the enemy were strongly entrenched. This 
town taken, Wheaton’s command was to turn 
south and clear out the towns of Las Pinas 
and Bacoor, near the Zapote river. 

It was the advance outposts around the 
town of Paranaque which Williston’s men 
struck first. The Captain had a moment’s 
anxiety as his men came under fire, for his 
companies were filled with raw recruits, and 
he could not be at all certain of how they 
would act. 

But as his two foremost companies charged 
the enemy’s trenches, not a man hung back 
or faltered. The Captain smiled contentedly 
and murmured, They’ll do.” Another mo- 
ment and the victorious shouts of his men 
proclaimed tliat they had taken the enemy’s 
first position. 

Bravo ! bravo ! Captain, keep it up,” called 
the Colonel, as he dashed by on his big bay, 
Mac at his heels on sturdy little T^gal. 

By this time, the beat w^s so terrific that 
the Americans could not advance with any 


122 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


rapidity; scores of soldiers, with here and 
there an officer, were lying along the road- 
side, overcome by heat. They, with the 
wounded, were being carried to the rear by 
Chinese coolies, who were also bringing up 
reserve ammunition. 

At noon the division commander ordered 
an hour’s rest for the exhausted command; 
and when, an hour later, the bugles sounded 
the advance, fully twenty per cent, of the men 
were unable to respond. General Lawton and 
his staff officers rode at the head of the com- 
mand as the forward movement began. 

Suddenly a terrific fire was opened up on 
them from a line of concealed trenches only 
five hundred yards off. Several officers and 
men fell at the first volley. 

The 51st” was ordered to deploy, which 
they did quickly and in perfect order. Colonel 
Kendall conducting the movement; they ad- 
vanced by rushes on the trenches fronting the 
river, halting several times to pour in a tre- 
mendous volley fire. 

As they got near enough to see the red- 
coated, white-hatted Filipinos, a shout broke 
from our men ; the enemy wavered, broke, and 
then fled, scattering in all directions, — the 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


123 


Americans chasing them for fully ten min- 
utes. 

Mac found himself in the midst of the rush, 
yelling fiercely with the rest, everything for- 
gotten, in the desire to catch and stop those 
fleeing figures. A slight, boyish-looking sol- 
dier near him stopped short, stumbled for- 
ward a step or two, then fell heavily to the 
ground, the glaze of death dulling his blue 
eyes even as Mac looked. 

Mac shuddered and a great lump came into 
his throat, but there was no time to pause ; on 
they swept, and before they halted had carried 
the second line of the defenses around the vil- 
lage of Las Pinas. 

It was now nearly dark, and orders came 
for them to bivouac for the night in the fields 
south of Las Pinas. 

Mac was wrong in his calculation, they had 
not crossed the Zapote bridge that night ; and 
neither he nor any one dreamed of the desper- 
ate fighting it would take before the bridge 
could be won. 

As the regiments broke ranks, the men, ut- 
terly exhausted, dropped to the ground just 
as they stood, too weary to even boil coffee or 
hunt a blanket to sleep on. Long trains of 


124 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


coolies were hurrying on to the field with 
commissary supplies and water. 

Captain Williston, having ridden all day, 
was not so utterly spent as his officers were, 
so he was busy in looking after his men. He 
put a stray Amigo to work boiling coffee, 
while Mac, who had come up to help, was for- 
aging for hard bread. 

The Captain’s face wore a sad, stern look ; 
he had lost four men killed, besides Lieuten- 
ant Desmond and twelve wounded. Every 
time his eye rested on Mac’s slight, boyish fig- 
ure, he sent up an earnest thanksgiving that 
his own had been spared. 

In a distant part of the field Mac came upon 
Billy, who was staggering under an armful of 
canteens he was carrying to the men. 

'' Why, Billy, how on earth did you get 
here,” exclaimed Mac in utter astonishment. 

'' Red Cross,” was the brief reply. 

Do you mean you rode in the Red Cross 
ambulance? ” 

'' Yes, sor.” Billy insisted upon the sor, 
now-a-days. '' ’Till the fighting began, and I 
helped with the fellers done up by the awful 
heat; an’ I carried water to the wounded in 
the field-dressing station. Thin some of them 
Filipino sharpshooters begun a firing on the 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


125 


doctors and the wounded at the dressing sta- 
tion, and I got Clancy’s gun and helped the 
hospital fellers shoot back. 

''We had a very neat little fighb of our 
own,” drawled Billy, in perfect, but uncon- 
scious mimicry of young Dr. Lewis’s manner 
and accent. 

"Well, youngster, I should say you had; 
you look dead beat. Go and rest now. I’ll 
deliver your canteens,” and Mac, with kindly 
authority, relieved the tired boy of his bur- 
dens. 

" Keep out of father’s sight, Billy, he thinks 
you safe at the deposit. Have you seen 
James? ” 

" Yes; that’s his canteen with an ' M.’ and 
a cross on it; he’s over on the right, under 
that clump of palms.” 

The newly-made corporal, regardless of the 
fresh white stripes he had fashioned with so 
much care, only the night before, was lying 
flat in the half-dried rice fields. 

" Hello, James ! ” Mac sang out cheerily ; 
then : " Heavens, man, do you know you are 
lying on an ant hill ? you’ll be eaten alive.” 

" I don’t care if it’s an active volcano,” was 
the tired answer. Mac laughed and rolled his 
friend off his uncomfortable couch, then 


126 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


handed him his canteen, telling him he had 
sent Billy off to rest. 

I don’t wonder you’re worn out, old fel- 
low,” continued Mac, ‘‘ the way you’ve been 
charging trenches all day. I heard the old 
man (the Colonel is always so called in army 
parlance) tell dad that the long-legged cor- 
poral had earned his sergeant’s chevrons, for 
you were the best sprinter and yeller in the 
whole outfit.” 

The two boys discussed the day’s doings in 
detail, both admitting they were scared to 
death when they first came under fire. ’ 

Presently Mac went off in search of rations, 
and before long returned with two tin cups of 
hot coffee, some hardtack, and a can of to- 
matoes. He was smiling as he deposited the 
results of his foraging expedition, I cau- 
tioned Billy to keep out of dad’s way. I sup- 
pose the youngster has told you of all he’s 
been up to to-day?” James nodded. 

‘‘ Well, just now, as I started over here, I 
saw dad collar the poor youth and march him 
off.” 

I couldn’t see their faces, but I would 
have liked to have heard the interview. Dad 
can’t stand being disobeyed, and I heard him 
order Billy to stay behind.” 

As soon as the two boys had finished their 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


127 


frugal supper, they spread out the Half shelter 
tent James had in his blanket-roll, and with a 
brief, but sincere prayer they dropped off into 
the deep sleep that utter physical exhaustion 
brings. 

Captain Williston, having done all he could 
for his battalion, was on his way to partake of 
the scanty meal which his striker (soldier ser- 
vant) had managed to prepare — some coffee, 
hardtack, and a can of beans, heated, when he 
stumbled on the unconscious Billy. 

'' Billy ! ’’ he ejaculated, in wrath and sur- 
prise, “You here?’’ “Yes, sor;” was the 
meek reply. 

“ Et tu Brute,” murmured the Captain to 
himself, whimsically. 

“ Yes, sor, I know I’m a brute ; but. Captain 
dear,” said the boy’s soft Irish voice coax- 
ingly, “ did ye’s iver know an Irishman as 
cud kape oujt of a good honest scrap ? ” 

The Captain smiled as he answered : “I was 
not calling names, Billy, that was just a quota- 
tion from the classics, meaning in good plain 
English that I was hurt and surprised that 
you had gone back on me.” The Captain 
knew how the boy adored him. 

“Well, you see, sor, all you said to me was 
' stay behind, Billy ; ’ and sure I have sor ; I’ve 
staid behint the regiment this whole day, sor.” 
9 


128 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


The boy's face was soberness itself, as he 
advanced his plea for mercy, but his eyes 
twinkled in spite of him. 

''Have you fired a gun to-day?" ques- 
tioned the Captain, sternly. 

" Yes, sor; " was the honest reply, though 
Billy felt from his Captain's stern aspect, that 
he was ruining his case by admitting it. 
" 'Twas when them divils, sor, began a firing 
on our wounded men, sor, back at the dress- 
ing station. Clancy, he was wounded, you 
know, he gave me his gun and fixed the 
sights for me, an' I did me level best, an' I 
won't deny it. But I was always behint, sor, 
as you told me." 

Billy's merry, freckled face looked white 
and drawn, the big blue eyes were black with 
excitement and fatigue. 

" And what have you been doing since we 
halted?" 

" Nothing, sor, but fill the men's canteens; 
they're wore out wid the heat and the fight- 
in'. And, Oh ! didn't our regiment do fine, 
sor." There was all the pride of ownership 
in the boy's weary tones. 

The Captain laid his hand on Billy's shock 
of rough, sandy hair, and answered very 
gently : " They did, Billy, but you have done 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


129 


well, too. Come now, and have something 
to eat. Ryan has some coffee, I know.’' 

So the two — the tall, grave officer and the 
small waif of the camp — sat down, and shared 
the scanty meal. When, a little later, Ryan 
appeared with an armful of hay and half a 
blanket, the Captain insisted upon Billy’s 
sharing his field-bed with him. 

Early the next morning our troops occu- 
pied Paranaque and Las Pinas, without a 
shot being fired, — the enemy had deserted 
them. 

While the men were at breakfast. Colonel 
Kendall rode up to Captain Williston and 
asked him to select two companies from his 
battalion to accompany General Lawton on a 
reconnoitering expedition southward, on the 
Bacoor road. 

The General had been so pleased with the 
fighting qualities of the 51st,” on the pre- 
vious day, that he had selected his escort from 
it, so the Colonel was proud and pleased. 

On entering Las Pinas our commanders 
found that the enemy had constructed fifteen- 
feet trenches for a distance of nine miles, and 
the Amigos, or so-called friendly natives, re- 
ported the towns south, which were the ob- 


130 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


jective points of the next advance, as similarly 
protected. It was to ascertain the position 
and strength of the Filipinos that General 
Lawton was to make this reconnaissance, in 
person. Early in the morning the Filipinos 
opened fire with some old-fashioned cannon, 
they had captured from the Spaniards, but our 
artillery soon silenced them. Then General 
Lawton, on his big white horse, which made 
him a shining and conspicuous mark for Fili- 
pino sharpshooters, surrounded by his staff 
officers, and followed closely by B ’’ and 
“G’’ companies of the ''51st,” set forth on 
this reconnaissance. 

Captain Williston had selected those two 
companies because of the conspicuous gal- 
lantry displayed by the two young lieutenants 
in command of them. He had noticed their 
gallantry all the day before. Both of these 
youngsters, as the older officer^'men tally des- 
ignated the younger ones, were fresh and fit 
for another day's hard work ; both being 
splendid specimens of athletes. They had 
come out of the hard fighting and marching 
of yesterday, better than any other officers in 
the regiment. Some of the older captains 
were disposed to growl a bit at this selection, 
but, on the whole, the regiment was content to 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. I3I 

leave its reputation in the hands of Talbot 
and Desmond. Talbot was a West Pointer, 
from a rich old Massachusetts family, a big, 
blonde giant, who had played half back on the 
West Point team the year they beat the '' mid- 
dies,’’ ten to nothing. His men adored him 
and would follow wherever the Lieutenant led. 

Desmond was quite another type; a tall, 
clean-cut, wiry, young fellow of good Irish 
parentage. He had won his commission from 
the ranks, having been a sergeant in the 3rd 
Cavalry during the battle of Santiago. He 
had won a medal of honor on July ist, had 
been badly wounded on the 2nd, and sent 
home on one of those first horror hospital 
ships, so-called. 

He was a reserved man, blushed like a girl 
when anyone hinted at his medal of honor, — 
not at all the popular fellow Talbot was, a 
fact shown in the way the two men were 
named — Talbot was '' Dick ” to everyone, 
high and low, even to the children in the regi- 
ment. His men — behind his back, of course 
— called him '' Dick ” or Dandy ; ” he was 
the best-dressed man in the regiment. 

They admired Desmond and respected him 
beyond measure ; but he was always formally 
addressed as Mr. Desmond, or occasionally. 


132 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


as Desmond. His men found him strict, but 
absolutely just, and they trusted him and 
would follow him to the death. 

It was barely dawn when the little recon- 
noitreing party set out, and proceeded slowly 
south, scouting the country carefully, and, as 
they went, firing continuous volleys to clear 
the country before them of a possibly con- 
cealed enemy. They had passed through sev- 
eral deserted villages, showing, in their ruined 
nipa huts, the effective shelling of the navy, 
when they came to one, the approach to it 
being rather narrow, with heavy typical under- 
growth on both sides of the road. 

General Lawton halted his party, and, with 
his staff, dismounted, handing their horses 
over to the orderly and telling him to ride 
back a distance, in case the enemy should be 
found here. 

Suddenly, from one of the huts, appeared 
an old Filipino woman, waving a bit of a white 
rag, on a long bamboo pole, and calling 
shrilly, “ Amigo, Amigo/' 

‘‘ Answer the flag of truce. Corporal Mar- 
vin ; you understand their lingo," commanded 
Lieutenant Talbot. 

James ran forward to parley with the old 
hag, who jabbered and gesticulated away at 
a great rate. 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


133 


James came back and reported : She 

says the insurgents have gone south, that 
there are only a few women and children in 
the village, who all welcome the Americans 
and are their friends.’’ And, indeed, from 
every house a white flag was flying. 

But General Lawton was an old Indian 
fighter and he trusted the Filipinos and their 
flags of truce about as much as he did the 
Apaches, down in Arizona, where he beat 
them at their own game and captured old 
Geronimo. 

'' Send your pickets ahead,” he commanded. 

Corporal Marvin with his squad had 
reached the church porch, over which a big 
white flag was flying; when suddenly, from 
the church itself, from every hut and from 
both sides of the road up which they had 
marched, a terrific fire was poured in on the 
little force. Two of the corporal’s squad fell 
at the first volley, one dead, the other shot in 
the leg and helpless. 

Quick as a flash, James and the man next 
him caught the wounded soldier by his feet 
and his shoulders and begun their retreat in 
good order, joining the rest of the party with- 
out further casualties. 

Well done. Corporal,” sang out General 
Lawton, heartily. 


134 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


James blushed beneath his tropical tan, but 
somehow all he could think of was the super- 
intendent’s office in the Randall High School, 
and a guilty boy hiding a paper which did 
not belong to him — '' I haven’t half wiped 
that out yet,” he said to himself. 

General Lawton brought his little force to 
a stand on a rise at a bend of the road, which, 
by its thick growth of trees, formed a sort of 
natural defense. 

He saw instantly that he was sur- 
rounded and greatly outnumbered; careful 
as his pickets had scouted, they had failed to 
locate the treacherous enemy, who had al- 
lowed the party to pass them by unmolested, 
trapping them with a false flag of truce, and 
then opening fire. 

For half an hour the fight waged fiercely. 
General Lawton, and, indeed, every officer 
picking up the rifles of the dead and wounded, 
and using them effectively. In the heart of 
the fight Mr. Talbot came up and, saluting 
respectfully, reported that the ammunition 
was nearly gone, 

I am counting on my orderly, he had his 
instructions, and we shall have reinforcements 
inside of an hour. Caution your men not to 
waste a single bullet.” 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


135 


The fire of our men slackened, evidently en- 
couraging the enemy, for, a few moments 
later, Mr. Desmond, who was holding their 
rear, which was an exposed position was 
startled to hear a crackling of brush down 
the steep side of the little knoll. Instantly he 
ran forward along its crest and there, almost 
upon them, were fully a hundred Filipinos. 
For half a second the young officer stood 
there, the target for scores of bullets, which 
pattered around him like hail stones; then 
dropping his gun, he drew his sword, waved 
it over his head, and uttered that magical 
word, '' Charge ! ’’ which, accompanied by a 
good American yell, routed the Spaniards at 
San Juan, and was doing the same in the Phil- 
ippines. 

As the young officer ran down the slope, 
every man was at his heels, yelling fiercely as 
he fired. The insurgents fled, scattering in all 
directions, — firing a last, weak volley as they 
ran. Young Desmond fell heavily, without a 
word, shot through the hip. 

His men, scrambling back into line, had 
not noticed that he was hit, until Mr. Talbot 
ran past them — and, stooping quickly, lifted 
the wounded officer in his arms, as if he had 
been a baby. The cowardly enemy, who 


136 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


seemed not to know a gallant, chivalrous ac- 
tion, concentrated a hot fire upon the young 
American giant, who walked back as carefully 
and cooly as if it were a football he was carry- 
ing across the gridiron, instead of an uncon- 
scious, wounded man. 

Mr. Desmond was laid beside half a dozen 
other wounded men. Presently he revived 
and sat up ; he had been shot through the hip 
and the wound was frightfully painful. He 
beckoned a young bugler to his side, who 
helped him apply a first-aid bandage to his 
wound, and then tie it up as well as possible. 

Now cut me a stick and help me on to my 
feet, or foot, rather,” commanded the young 
officer. In a moment he had hobbled back 
to the firing line, to be greeted with a great 
cheer of admiration from his men. He had 
paused to shake hands with Mr. Talbot, and 
say, huskily, God bless you, old man.” 

"'How much ammunition, Mr. Talbot?” 
asked General Lawton, presently. 

''We can't hold out more than ten minutes, 
sir.” 

" Very good,” was the reply. 

The General was as cool as if the answer 
had been ten hours. He had decided to re- 
treat, not down the road, but to the north, 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


137 


across an open rice field, which the enemy, 
apparently, had not occupied. 

The wounded were placed carefully and ten- 
derly on the backs of the strongest men, and 
slowly the backward movement was begun, — 
Mr. Desmond hobbling bravely along, re- 
fusing all assistance. '' There are others who 
need it more,’’ he said. 

As the Insurgents, from their concealed 
trenches, saw the Americans retreating, ham- 
pering themselves with a lot of helpless men, 
they sent up a shrill cry of triumph, and, leap- 
ing from the shelter of their entrenchments, 
they thought to overwhelm the little party of 
Americans ; but even as they exposed them- 
selves to our men, they met with such deadly 
volleys that they broke and rushed back to 
their shelter, thoroughly disorganized. 

A scouting party, the next day, found fifty- 
seven dead Filipinos in one trench. 

'' Steady, men, steady ! ” cautioned the of- 
ficers. '' Save your ammunition.” 

Just then, from the Bay side, came the un- 
mistakable sound, faint though it was, of a 
Yankee cheer, and out from the banana 
bushes, across the open, broke a battalion of 
Marines, while over the heads of the retreat- 
ing party came the long, peculiar swish of 


138 THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 

shells, which began to burst amongst the 
enemy’s entrenchments. 

Three cheers for the ' Navy,’ ” yelled a 
boy soldier in the ranks; and it was taken 
up with a will, which the Marines answered 
with a hearty shout of encouragement. 

The lookout on the gunboats Helena and 
Monadnock had discovered the little com- 
mand, retreating across the open, and the 
Marines were sent to their rescue, while the 
guns were trained on the insurgent trenches, 
which were plainly discernible by the aid of 
glasses. 

At that moment, down the road, came a 
battalion of regulars, with the orderly of the 
Division Commander, still holding the horses 
of the General and his staff. 

He had, evidently, understood General 
Lawton’s order, and ridden back for reinforce- 
ment, on hearing the firing. 

Again came a cheer from the navy boats. 
They could see what our men, down in the low 
fields could not, the Filipinos, like a flock of 
frightened sheep, were fleeing in all directions, 
throwing away their rifles and scarlet uniform 
coats, as they ran. 

A young and wildly excited aide came tear- 
ing down the road giving some message to 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


139 


General Lawton, who listened to him calmly, 
then turned and said : Take your men back 

to camp, Mr. Talbot, rest them and join your 
regiment at the Zapote river. You, Mr. Des- 
mond, and our wounded, will go aboard the 
Helena. I have written a personal note to 
the Commander to look carefully after so gal- 
lant a young officer.’' 

Then, with a courteous satute, the great 
General rode off, followed by the relieving 
battalion. 

When the two companies reached Las 
Pinas, they found it deserted, save by a small 
guard, who were looking after the inhabitants, 
who had returned to their homes when they 
found the Americans not only did not intend 
to kill them, but were willing to protect and 
feed them. 

The sound of heavy firing could plainly be 
heard to the south. 

The command of ‘‘ G ” Company fell to the 
first sergeant, Peter Kelly, in Mr. Desmond’s 
absence. He was a typical old soldier, who 
had fought in almost every Indian campaign 
since the Civil War. 

'‘Are your men ready to march. Sergeant ? ” 
asked Mr. Talbot, an hour later. 

" Yes, sir. Good and ready, sir.” 


CHAPTER XI. 

A S the two companies came up on the 
firing line about two o^clock^, the 
“ 51st greeted them with an approv- 
ing shoufi for the story of their desperate fight 
had already reached the front. 

Go to the rear and rest;’’ ‘‘We don’t 
need you ; “ You’ve done enough fightin’ for 

one day ; ” and “ Sure the regiment’s proud of 
you, boys,” were the good-natured comments 
hurled at them. 

Colonel Randall rode up and shook Mr. 
Talbot’s hand warmly. 

“Your conduct was most gallant, sir; as 
plucky a rescue of a wounded man, sir, as I 
ever heard of. General Lawton can’t say too 
much for you.” 

The tall, young giant reddened up and re- 
plied, awkwardly, “ Why, Colonel, I didn’t 
even know he saw me, he never said a word.” 

“ It will be published in orders, Mr. Talbot. 
That is the General’s way ; ” and the Colonel 
rode down before the two companies to tell 
140 





•jy. ^ 


SAN SEBASTIAN CHURCH, MANILA 








THE TWO STOWAWAYS. I4I 

the men, in person, how proud he was of 
them. 

Since dawn the fighting had been going on. 
The Filipinos, strongly entrenched on the Za- 
pote river, beyond the bridge, which they had 
partially destroyed, had held out stubbornly 
since daybreak. Our artillery could not be 
used, for such was the position of our troops 
it would have been dangerous to them. 

The coming up of “ G ’’ and '' B ’’ compa- 
nies had been the one break in the long, hot 
day, which was now wearing to a close. 

At six o'clock our force had only succeeded 
in pushing the enemy back about five hundred 
yards, and even that much advantage had been 
gained by a large casualty list. 

The long coolie trains were steadily occu- 
pied in carrying our dead and wounded to the 
rear. Never before had the Filipinos made 
such a determined stand. 

They were serving out hot coffee to the 
weary men on the firing line, as Colonel Ken- 
dall on his big bay and Mac on Tagal rode 
slowly down the hastily thrown up entrench- 
ment of the '' 51st.-' 

The fine-looking old officer sat up, straight 
and stiff in his saddle, though he looked worn 
and white with fatigue. The bullets from the 

TO 


142 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


enemy, over the river, buzzed past him, but 
they did not disturb him. He was an example 
of soldierly courage to every man in the ranks, 
and the men felt that he was, though perhaps 
they could not have given their reasons for it. 

Mac found himself dodging, as an occa- 
sional bullet came unpleasantly near. 

The Colonel was in a brown study, working 
out some plan evidently. He was scanning the 
deep, narrow river, and estimating distances. 

'' My compliments to your father, Mac, and 
ask him to report to me, here.'’ 

By the time Captain Williston had reached 
him, the Colonel’s plan was cut and dried. 
Captain Williston’s battalion, almost to a 
man, could swim ; the Captain had given them 
swimming drills at Tampa, before they had 
gone to Cuba, and had continued it- ever since 
their arrival in the Philippines. 

The Colonel’s plan was a daring one, the 
marines had, at lasC managed to land their 
Maxim gun on a point which overlooked the 
Filipino defenses. Below it was a bar in the 
river, over which a good, large body of troops 
could cross in comparative safety, if the at- 
tention of the enemy could be engaged by a 
sharp attack on their front, which they be- 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


143 


lieved to be impregnable. To Captain Wil- 
liston was this attack entrusted. 

At dusk, those few moments which, in the 
tropics, intervene between daylight and night, 
for they have no twilight, he was to swim the 
river with his battalion, attacking the enemy's 
front, while two regiments of infantry would 
cross the bar and come up on the left flank of 
the insurgents. 

The marines, with their deadly gun, were 
to pour in a terrific fire from their point of 
vantage. 

It was a daring plan, the Colonel knew, but 
one which he thought would succeed, and 
would not cause him any greater loss than his 
command had suffered all day, and would 
have to suffer on the morrow, if the insur- 
gents were not dislodged from their strong- 
hold. 

As the shadows of night began to fall, the 
first battalion prepared for its daring venture. 
Only men who could swim were to go, but 
more than one plucky youngster who could 
not swim a stroke arranged with a more for- 
tunate bunkie," who could swim, for trans- 
portation across the river. 

It was just dusk, the light dim enough to 
partially conceal the swimmer, when, at a low- 


144 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


voiced command from Captain Williston, who 
was in the lead, his battalion stripped to the 
waist, and, holding the rifles and ammunition 
belts high, with one hand, slipped quietly into 
the water. 

Mac was off duty when they started, so no 
one noticed that he had quietly taken his 
place with his father's company and was 
swimming swiftly with the others. 

“ We'll stay together, dad," he said to him- 
self. 

The command was fully half way across 
when they were discovered by the Filipinos, 
who had been hotly engaged with the marines 
and their death-dealing IV^axim. 

Once they were discovered a hot fire was 
poured in upon them, but not a man was hit. 

Dripping wet, they formed on the shore, 
and, with triumphant, ear-piercing yells, 
charged the enemy which had withstood them 
a whole day for the first time in the campaign. 
At the same time the flanking regiments came 
up on the left, and the fight proved a short 
one. The Filipinos fired a volley, wavered, 
then broke and fled, leaving their guns, am- 
munition, dead and wounded, on the field. 
Our troops had won a hard-fought but com- 
plete victory. 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


145 


If Madge could have seen Mac, the '' dude/’ 
as she often teasingly called him, after the 
fight was over, dripping wet, covered with 
mud from the rice fields, his hair on end, bare- 
footed, for he had to discard his water-soaked 
riding boots, she would have thought him a 
veritable young tramp. His father passed 
him by without knowing him, until Mac called 
out '' Are you going to cut me, dad ? ” 

'' MacLean Williston ! how did you get 
here ? ” asked his father, sternly. 

“ Just as you did, sir,” was the somewhat 
saucy reply. Excuse me, sir, I don’t mean 
to be disrespectful ; but the Colonel excused 
me from further duty to-night, and, dad, you 
know what I said the other day ; ' Let's keep 
together.' When I can. I’m bound to stay 
with you, especially when you are going into 
danger.” 

Captain Williston groaned mentally, what 
could he do with this boy, who insisted upon 
sharing his danger. Mac never knew it, but 
his fate was settled from that moment; his 
father determined that the boy should go back 
home as soon as possible. 

The bridge was soon repaired. They 
brought with them the clothing which the 


146 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


men had discarded for their swim, and all 
their other supplies, and the balance of Law- 
ton’s force was hurried across the river. 

A native priest, who came in from a nearby 
village, explained the obstinancy of the Filipi- 
nos in holding their ground by saying that it 
was at this very spot they had defeated a large 
Spanish force, only the year before; also that 
Tuliga, the Witch of Tondo ” had prophe- 
sied that here, at Zapote, the Americanos 
would suffer a terrible and entire defeat. 

Inspired by the prophecy of one whom the 
superstitious natives firmly believed to be en- 
dowed with supernatural power, the Filipinos 
had vowed on the Crucifix to die, before they 
would yield, and, poor creatures, many of 
them had faithfully kept their oath. The 
number of killed and wounded was appalling. 

Mac was sickened by the dreadful sights. 
For the first time he saw the horror of war; 
before he had only felt the wild, thrilling ex- 
citement of the fight. Now he saw its re- 
sults and his heart was heavy. He found 
James, and the two boys made their way to a 
little church, desecrated and partially de- 
stroyed, to be sure, still the Blessed Sacrament 
had been reserved in the rudely-carved stone 
tabernacle. Our Lord had dwelt on that 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


147 


humble altar, at which they knelt and prayed 
fervently for the souls of those who had died 
that day in battle, friend and enemy alike, and 
they besought God to send His peace on this 
distracted land. 

As they retraced their steps towards the 
field where the regiment was to bivouac for 
the night, they met the native priest again. 
He had seen them coming out of his little 
church. He looked at them sadly, yet sternly, 
then said, bitterly, in Spanish : 

'' There is nothing left in God’s house to 
steal.” 

'' You mistake us. Reverend Father, ’’replied 
Mac, quickly. See, we are Catholics, like 
yourself ; ” and he showed the little Sacred 
Heart badge, pinned to the inside of his blue 
shirt. 

''We went to pray, to say our beads;” 
bringing out the Rosary Madge had given 
him when he left home; blushing, too, for, 
boy-like, Mac hated any public show of his 
devotions. 

James followed suit, and the good priest 
looked at the two young soldiers in amaze- 
ment. 

" Americanos and not heretics ! ” he ex- 
claimed. 


148 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


The boys laughed and answered cheerfully : 

Americanos, and good Catholics, Father.’’ 

''Are there many more like you?” asked 
the priest, simply. 

" Millions of us,” Mac replied, energetically, 
waving his hands to impress the vast num- 
bers of " us ” on the priest’s mind. 

The boys insisted upon Father Miguel re- 
turning to camp with them and they became 
very good friends before long. 

Mac questioned him about Tuliga, and 
found that she was reputed to live at Imus, 
the large town to the south, which they were 
to attack next. 

" I wonder if we shall find Don Camilio 
there,” cried Mac, very much excited at the 
thought; whereupon he told Father Miguel 
the story of his encounter with the famous 
" Witch of Tondo,” and of little Esmeralda, 
and of how they were hoping to find her 
father, through what Jose had revealed. 

" I would not be surprised if the boy had 
told you the truth,” replied the priest, 
thoughtfully. 

" There are many Spaniards imprisoned at 
Imus ; they have been there, strictly guarded, 
for over a year. No one is allowed to even 
see them. Imus is strongly fortified; the 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


149 


Spaniards required months of hard fighting 
to capture it, only two years ago, and then 
they did not or could not hold it.’’ 

Mac’s heart misgave him, — more fighting on 
the morrow, — and he could not help thinking 
of the awful sights he had just seen ; dead and 
wounded .three deep in the trenches, the liv- 
ing pinned down by the dead, imploring to be 
put out of their agony. However, it was a 
comfort to know that by this time the poor 
wretches were in the field hospitals, being as 
well and tenderly cared for as our own brave 
men. 

The next morning at daybreak, to the utter 
amazement of everyone, the Mayor of Imus, 
carrying a huge, gold-headed cane, and wear- 
ing his badge of authority, walked into Ba- 
coor and formally surrendered the town. 

He was sent on to General Lawton at Las 
Pinas. 

He told the General that the insurgents had 
passed through Imus in utter confusion, car- 
rying with them one hundred dead and three 
hundred wounded. 

The Mayor said that the people of Imus 
were glad to welcome the Americans. He 
said that the so-called Filipino army consisted 
simply of Aguinaldo’s cut-throats. 


150 THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 

He also informed General Lawton that, un- 
fortunately, the Filipinos had managed to 
remove their arsenal, cartridge factory, and 
powder mill at Imus, to Buena Vista, a 
stronghold further south. 

There came such a sudden though effer- 
vescent look of satisfaction in the Mayor’s 
eyes, as he gave this bit of information, that 
Mac, who had accompanied Colonel Kendall, 
who wished to be present at the surrender of 
the town, suspected the fellow of treachery, 
then and there. 

'' Look out for him. Colonel,” he whispered. 

‘‘ The smooth, old, comic-opera villain, he 
means mischief. I’ll bet.” 

Mac was right. Later on, the old fellow 
did betray his new friends, but of that we 
shall hear some other time. 

When the Mayor had finished his little 
speech, Mac got permission to question him 
regarding Don Camilio. 

But the Mayor, who had been so amiable 
and pleasant before, became sullen and non- 
communicative once the subject of the 
Spanish prisoners was broached. He 
shrugged his shoulders indifferently at Mac’s 
story of Esme’s longing for her father. 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 151 

'' I know nothing of the prisoners/’ he said. 

Low wretches, all, but, perhaps, your friend 
is amongst them. I did hear that, in the 
hurry of their retreat, the insurgents allowed 
fourteen to escape.” 

Mac looked the indignation he felt it un- 
wise to speak. 

Colonel, may I have a few hours’ leave ? ” 
asked Mac, saluting that officer in the most 
approved fashion. There won’t be any more 
fighting to-day, I guess, and I would like to 
find out something of Esme’s father, if I can.” 

The Colonel’s eyes twinkled solemnly as he 
said, '' Certainly, Mr. Williston, only don’t put 
the river between us, as you did last night; 
/ can’t swim.” 

Mac reddened up and looked a bit foolish. 
‘‘ I didn’t know you knew about it,” he mut- 
tered incoherently. 

‘'Hear about it? Of course I’ve heard 
about it ; ” went on the Colonel with mock 
indignation. “ A staff officer of mine to swim 
a river, and take part in a fight, a pretty hot 
one, too, without my permission ! ” 

“ I wasn’t on duty, sir,” began Mac, ex- 
cusingly; then he saw the smile in the Col- 
onel’s eyes, and knew he was only teazing 
or “ jollying ” him, as he himself would say. 


152 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


“ I hope you won't reprimand me in orders, 
sir.'’ 

'' You'll hear from me in orders, all right, 
young man," was the somewhat enigmatical 
response. “ Now off on your errand of 
mercy, young knight." 

Afterwards, Mac tried to salve his con- 
science by construing this joking remark of 
the Colonel’s into a"permission or rather ap- 
proval of a very dangerous, foolhardy exploit. 

But, after all, conscience is the one thing 
in the world that ZLnll make itself heard, un- 
less a long course of drowning its promptings 
has been pursued. So Mac found, when his 
desires pulled one way, and his conscience 
quite another. 

As he rode into one end of the little town 
of Bacoor, he saw entering at the other, a 
curious little procession. A group of ragged, 
wild-looking men were being escorted down 
the main street of the village, by a hundred 
or more American soldiers, who were cheer- 
ing them, offering them coffee, and cool water 
from their canteens. 

The crowd halted at the central plaza in 
front of the church ; the plaza where the cap- 
tain commanding the battalion, left to guard 
the town, had pitched his headquarters. 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 1 53 

Beyond a doubt these were the Spanish 
prisoners, of whose escape Mac had heard 
from the Mayor of Imus. He spurred Tagal 
eagerly forward and joined the rapidly in- 
creasing crowd collecting around them. 

A tall, fine-looking young Spaniard, who 
acted as their leader, stepped forth and 
gravely saluted the American captain. 

Our men were shaking hands with the bal- 
ance of the group, clapping them heartily on 
the shoulder, and pressing all sorts of refresh- 
ments upon these men, whom, a year ago, 
they had been fighting. 

The tall man proved to be a Spanish captain 
of infantry, the balance of the party consisted 
of his sergeant and six privates, a wealthy 
banker from the north of Luzon, a govern- 
ment official, with several other less import- 
ant personages. Amongst these, however, 
was a fine-looking Mestizo, who had been a 
non-commissioned officer, a sergeant, in the 

Garda Civolta,’’ which was formed entirely 
from the loyal natives and had done good ser- 
vice in helping suppress the insurrections. 
The conversation was, of course, in Spanish, 
but Mac understood it perfectly now, and 
listened to every word with eager attention. 

What ! ’’ exclaimed the American, you 


154 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


know nothing of what has happened in the 
past year and a half ? ’’ 

The Spanish officer explained that he and 
his party had been captured early in January, 
’98, the other prisoners a little later. 

‘'We are as people raised from the dead,” 
he exclaimed, dramatically. “ Of our beloved 
ones, our friends, of the world at large, we 
know nothing. Our captors have told us a 
lot of ridiculous lies which, of course, we do 
not believe. They have said that the Ameri- 
cans, your great nation, had fought and con- 
quered our beloved Spain.” Here every bat- 
tered hat was lifted in honor of that dear land 
which they had never hoped to see again. 
“ They tell us our little King, Alphonso, God 
give him every blessing,” again the ragged 
headgears were raised, as if they had been the 
helmets of plumed knights, “ was murdered ; 
and that the United States had taken posses- 
sion of Cuba, Porto Rico, and these Philip- 
pines. I believed them all lies, but now that I 
find you Americans here, and fighting, I can 
see there was some truth in what they told 
us.” 

“ Golly, wouldn’t I just like the job o’telling 
them fellers the news, nit. Wot’s de fun 
o’hitting a feller whin he’s down.” 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


155 


It was Billy’s familiar voice at Mac’s elbow. 

My sentiments, exactly, youngster. Where 
have you been the last two days ? When this 
talky talk is over, come with me, and we’ll 
try and find out something about Don 
Camilio.” 

It wasn’t the pleasantest task in the world 
for the American officer to have to tell his 
Spanish confrere, how the map of the world 
had been changed in a few short months, and 
at what a rate the United States had been 
making history. 

It was one thing to lower the pride of an ar- 
rogant, supercillious enemy ; but quite an- 
other to crush this poor victim of an ignorant, 
savage warfare, who stood there ragged, dirty, 
and worn to a shadow; waiting, with just a 
touch of hauteur in his courtly manner, for 
the American officer to speak. 

As the story began with the blowing up of 
the Maine, the Declaration of war by Con- 
gress, Dewey and his wonderful victory at 
Manila Bay, Mac watched the sudden transi- 
tions in the man’s face, from incredulity to 
surprise, horror ; then, as the tale continued of 
the glorious victory of our army at Santiago, 
the marvelous, yet terrible fight of Sampson 
and the utter defeat and annihilation of the 


156 THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 

gallant Cervera's fleet, then the surrender of 
the Spanish army ; to shame, humiliation, and, 
finally, blank despair. He turned away, with 
a groan, and covered his face with his hands. 
Quickly, in respectful silence, the crowd of 
curious onlookers melted away, leaving the 
poor fellow to bear this bitter humiliation, 
alone. 

'' I never thought Td feel so pizen sorry, 
fer a dago, did yer?’’ whispered Billy, in 
genuine but slangy sympathy, as the two boys 
walked away. 

The escaped prisoners were at once given 
clean clothing, food, and comfortable quarters 
until they could be sent into Manila. 

As soon as they were rested, Mac ques- 
tioned them regarding Don Camilio and, to 
his delight, found that Esme's father had been 
of the party but was too weak to attempt his 
escape with the others. 

The boys found that the young Mestizo, 
or halfbreed sergeant, knew all about him, and 
so plied him with all sorts of quick in- 
quiries. Gonzales was the man’s name, and 
the boys found him not only intelligent, but, 
when they had explained their mission, very 
sympathetic, also. 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


157 


He knew perfectly who the boy Jose was, 
had frequently seen him around the insurgent 
camp. 

'' He has told you the truth. Tuliga lives on 
the outskirts of Imus ; her hut is in the midst 
of a typical jungle, and it was there we prison- 
ers were being taken when we made our es- 
cape. The insurgents could only spare a 
small guard to go with us, and that is how we 
managed our escape, Don Camilio, as you 
know, being too ill to come with us. He 
lies, undoubtedly, at the witch’s hut.” 

'' We must go at once to the rescue,” cried 
Mac, jumping up. 

'‘What would you do, Sehor?” asked the 
Mestizo. 

“ Take a company of infantry and surround 
the hut, capture the “ witch,” and release the 
poor prisoner,” said Mac, promptly. 

The sergeant shrugged his shoulders. 
“ You would get there, even supposing you 
could locate the spot, only to find the hut 
empty, and the bird flown. Every so-called 
Amigo you see here, has but just cast aside 
his red coat and rifle. He is an insurrecto un- 
til you Americans capture him or make him 
run, then he throws away his uniform and his 
gun, and becomes an Amigo. But they are 


158 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


all spies and before your men have been gone 
five minutes, the news would be sent ahead to 
Tuliga, and your march would be for noth- 
ing/' 

''We must do something, sergeant, can’t 
you help us ? ” said Mac, impatiently. 

The man paused a moment to think, then 
he said, slowly : 

" Senor Lieutenant, with two or three 
picked men, we could do it. There would 
be some danger, but the risk would be small. 
Can the Lieutenant command three men to- 
night ? ” 

" I can,” was Mac’s confident reply. 


CHAPTER XII. 


M ac sent Billy of¥ with a note for James, 
telling him to get leave, so as to join 
the expedition, also to enlist the ser- 
vices of a young fellow named Lessing, who 
was the son of an officer. He was trying for 
a commission, and the boys knew him very 
well, and liked and trusted him. 

'' Will tell you details of plan when you get 
here ; so get a move on you and don’t fail to 
bring Lessing, and both of you remember the 
thing is a dead secret. Mum’s the word.” 

While Billy was off on his errand, Mac 
learned more of the details of Don Camilio’s 
captivity and the reasons for his capture. 

The insurgents had learned that he kept a 
great deal of money in his house; he pos- 
sessed also silver and jewels of great value, so 
he had long been a marked man with them. 
But what had brought their wrath down on 
him, and caused the destruction of the haci- 
enda and burning of his plantation, his own 
imprisonment, and torture ; was the fact 

159 


i6o 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


learned by the insurgents from Tuliga, the 
woman, who had been Esme’s nurse, that her 
master had a list of names of the Insurgent 
Junta ” in Manila, a list that compromised 
many wealthy and prominent men, who had 
never been suspected of sympathy or com- 
plicity with the insurrection ; so that Don 
Camilio incurred the deadly enmity of those 
traitors. 

The Don would have been killed long ago, 
if they had been able to find the list, or dis- 
cover the hidden money and jewels. 

Tuliga, and Jose, who was her nephew. Ser- 
geant Gonzales explained, had searched the 
hacienda in vain ; they had even tried torture 
on the old gentleman, but he had kept his se- 
cret in spite of them. 

'' That Tuliga is a devil,” said the young 
Mestizo, a fierce light in his eyes, and his face 
livid with hate. 

'' She would tell the old gentleman one day 
that his little daughter was dead, the next day 
she would return and say it was a mistake, 
that she was in prison for stealing bread to 
keep her from starving. She has nearly 
driven him mad ; and we have been powerless, 
but now, with the Senor Lieutenant’s aid, we 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. l6l 

will punish the wicked witch, and rescue the 
poor gentleman.’' 

Mac thoroughly enjoyed being called Sehor 
Lieutenant by this fine, soldierly-looking Fil- 
ipino, who, of course, had no idea of that 
young gentleman’s real status. 

Truth to tell, Mac arranged all the details 
of his expedition with such a quiet air of au- 
thority, that he swept away all objections and 
obstacles. The plan now was, not only to 
rescue Don Camilio, but to try and capture 
Aguinaldo’s chief '' Mascot ” and prophetess, 
the Witch of Tondo.” 

Sergeant Gonzales was a native of this 
province, born and brought up near Imus. 
He knew the tropical jungles, with their by- 
ways and turnings, as only a boy can know 
who has spent his life in them. He was con- 
fident of being able to locate Tuliga’s abode, 
for from the conversation of his captors, he 
had learned of the whereabouts of her hut, and 
indeed had been well on the road to it before 
making his escape. 

Fortunately for the success of Mac’s plan, 
his father, with his battalion, was garrisoning 
Bacoor. When James and young Lessing ar- 
rived from that town, they found Mac had 
everything arranged. He had six fresh ponies 


1 62 THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 

engaged, the extra one, which Billy was to 
lead, was for Don Camilio to ride. 

Mac had demurred to Billy’s going on the 
expedition, but Billy absolutely refused to be 
left out, and Sergeant Gonzales remarked in a 
low aside to Mac, He can hold the ponies 
while we surround the hut, so there will be no 
danger for the brave little one.’' With this 
understanding, Billy was permitted to join 
them. 

The plan which Mac and the young Mestizo 
had worked out was simple -enough, and 
promised success, with little or no danger. 
To pass their own pickets was really the most 
difficult part of the program ; but they man- 
aged it by riding out of the town towards Ba- 
coor, the road to which, of course, was open 
and patrolled by our troops. 

When halted by the sentry they stopped at 
once. The corporal of the guard recognized 
Mac as Colonel Kendall’s aide, both James 
and young Lessing had signed passes^ while a 
word from Mac, spoken with a decided air of 
authority, was sufficient to let Billy and the 
Sergeant through the line. 

I expect I’ll catch it to-morrow, for this, 
thought that young man, ruefully, but he 
kept his opinion to himself, and rode off with 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 163 

his party, as if he had every right in the world 
to be starting off at dusk, in the heart of a 
treacherous enemy’s country, on the wildest 
sort of a scheme. 

Mac was shrewd enough to know, that if 
his expedition succeeded, only glory would be 
theirs ; but if they failed, condign punishment 
would be the fate of each one of them. 

They were all ready and willing to take the 
risk. Sergeant Gonzales, alone, thought all 
was being conducted by the military authority 
of the young Senor Lieutenant. 

The life and conditions are so different 
from the home ones, that sometimes you just 
have to go ahead and do things,” was Mac’s 
argument, and, after all, it must be admitted 
there was some truth in it. 

Once Mac had gotten his little party 
through the picket line. Sergeant Gonzales 
took the lead. In the first place they all 
halted beneath a big group of palms, and un- 
tying a bundle from each one of their saddles, 
they transformed themselves into fair imita- 
tions of the friendly ” natives. 

‘‘ Wouldn’t the girls at home think us aw- 
ful guys,” chuckled Mac, as he slipped into 
the loose white blouse, exactly like the China- 
men wear in the United States. 


164 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


As our three boys were covering up their 
regulation blue flannel shirts with the ugly, 
but comfortable native costume, the young 
Mestizo Sergeant caught sight of something 
which made him exclaim wonderingly: 

'' Why do you wear such things as those ? '' 
pointing a scornful finger at the well-worn 
Sacred Heart badge which was carefully 
pinned to each boyish breast, whilst Billy, in 
addition, wore his cherished swimming 
badge.’’ 

Because we are Catholics,” replied Mac, 
promptly,” and wouldn’t be without them for 
anything. Why don’t you wear a medal or 
something blessed, yourself. Sergeant? You 
certainly ought to be a Catholic.” 

'' I used to be,” he answered, gloomily, 
'' but I thought when you were educated and 
intelligent, you had to give up religion.” 

Mac was no longer surprised at such no- 
tions ; he had come across them often in his 
intercourse with the better class of natives, 
ignorant, half-educated as they were, their 
ideas seemed to be that religion, education, in- 
telligence, and liberty could not exist together. 

So all he said was : “ We don’t fed that way 
in the United States, but we’ll tell you more 
about it some other time.” 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


165 


They had been going south for sometime, 
when the Sergeant dismounted, and going up 
to a tall lone palm-tree, on the side of the road, 
he examined it carefully by the light of several 
matches, and soon gave an exclamation of sat- 
isfaction. He called the boys to look, and 
they saw at about the level of a man’s eye, a 
small skull, cut deeply in the bark. 

That’s Tuliga’s sign,” he remarked. 

Here we must take to the jungle, and ride in 
single file. Not a word must be said, and, if 
we should be stopped by insurgent sentries, 
say not a word, leave all to me.” 

They had proceeded for an hour unmolested 
in this fashion, with only low whispered words 
now and then, when the halfbreed dismounted 
to examine the trail, when, on making an 
abrupt turn in the narrow path, a faint glim- 
mer of light pierced the blackness of the 
night. 

Fortunately for the rescuing party, the 
moon did not rise until after midnight, and 
though this made it more difficult to follow 
the trail in the jungle, still the intense dark- 
ness was a protection against prying eyes. 

An electric thrill of excitement ran through 
the little party, as they caught the faint glim- 
mer of light for which for some time their 


1 66 THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 

eyes had been straining through the black- 
ness of a tropical night. 

They halted at once, and quietly dis- 
mounted, leaving Billy as they had planned, in 
charge of their horses, while with bare feet 
they crept noiselessly forward. Suddenly 
they came upon a clearing, in the center of 
which stood the abode of the Witch.” It 
was a nipa hut, such as the natives live in, only 
a bit larger and better built. It stood high 
up from the ground, with a broad porch run- 
ning its entire length, and here, standing still* 
leaning on his gun, they caught sight of the 
Filipino guard. 

'' Stay here, while I go forward and see how 
many more there are,'’ whispered Sergeant 
Gonzales. He was gone what seemed an age 
to the waiting boys, who were in. a state of 
intense excitement. 

“ It is as I thought,” he reported, presently. 

” I climbed a tree and got a good look into 
the hut; there is only one other sentry, and 
he is asleep; Tuliga is cooking one of her 
witch's messes over her fire, while the Don 
is not even bound, so sure are they of him.” 

Obeying the Sergeant's hastily whispered 
directions, the three boys followed him, as he • 
advanced. 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


167 


A narrow stream of light from the lamp in- 
side showed the careless sentry standing at 
ease, but the narrow track leading up to the 
hut was in utter darkness — also one end of 
the porch. Here the Sergeant and Mac 
climbed up and waited for the sentry to make 
some move which would enable them to take 
him unawares. If possible they wanted to 
overcome him before he could give the alarm 
to those inside. 

They had not long to wait ; presently, with 
a yawn, the fellow shouldered his rifle, 
stepped to the open door, looked in, then 
slowly paced up the lighted end of the porch, 
turned, and slowly walked towards the two 
men waiting for him in the darkness. 

On he came, humming softly a sweet, plain- 
tive native air; suddenly, without the faintest 
warning, the cold muzzle of a pistol pressed 
his forehead, and a fierce, stern voice in his 
own language whispered : One sound and 
you are a dead man.'' Dumb with amaze- 
ment, the man submitted quietly to being 
bound and gagged. The Sergeant had pro- 
vided himself with a length of good, stout 
Manila rope. 

The sentry being out of the way, James and 
young Lessing joined Mac and Sergeant Gon- 


1 68 THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 

zales, Mac covered the open doorway, while 
the other three did the same for the windows, 
which opened wide on to the porch. Some 
slight sound caused the woman, Tuliga, to lift 
her eyes, from the evil-smelling mess she was 
brewing over a big charcoal brazier. 

She saw Mac’s gallant, trim young figure 
standing in the doorway, and she knew him. 
A look of furious anger leaped into her face, 
which changed as she saw herself surrounded, 
into one of deadly hate and impotent fury. 
Quick as lightning she had drawn a long, 
sharp knife, and like a wildcat, had made a 
spring at Don Camilio, but quick as she was, 
the young Mestizo seemed to have divined her 
murderous purpose, and with one leap had 
wrested the knife from her and thrown her 
to the floor. 

For a moment or twO' all was confusion; 
the partially aroused sentry number two was 
awakened from his sleep only to find himself 
in the hands of the ‘‘ Americanos,” whom he 
feared quite as much as he hated. He at once 
began to yell for mercy, begging them not to 
kill him, and he would do anything they 
wanted. It was with some difficulty they 
made him understand that he was riot to be 
taken right out and shot. 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


169 


It took three of them to bind and gag the 
maddened woman. She was a frightful object 
to contemplate, struggling to free herself, and 
hurling the most awful and blasphemous oaths 
at her young captors. They stifled her, when 
a gag, made of the united handkerchiefs of the 
boys, was stuffed into her wicked mouth. 

Poor Don Camilio had gazed upon the 
scene enacted before him, with such a vacant, 
bewildered look, that Mac feared that Ser- 
geant Gonzales might be right, that the poor 
gentleman had lost his mind. But he rallied 
presently, when Mac explained, as well as he 
could, who they were and from whom they 
came. 

At the mention of Esmeralda’s name, a 
deep sob escaped him, and in a voice broken 
with emotion, he exclaimed : 

Ah ! then she is alive and well, thanks be 
to God, and to you, Senor Lieutenant, and 
your brave comrades, who have come to my 
rescue.” 

But there was no time for explanations now. 
Mac felt uneasy until he should be able to get 
Don Camilio into Las Pinas, and his prison- 
ers under lock and key, especially the woman, 
whose baleful eyes followed his every move- 
ment. 


170 THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 

Mac’s observant eyes had taken in every 
detail of the Witch's " abode, for, as he 
soon afterwards wrote Madge, describing the 
night's adventure : Ever since I was a kid, 
knee-high to a duck, I have read in Grimm's 
fairy tales and others, various descriptions of 
a witch's hut, so you may be sure nothing 
escaped me in Tuliga's mansion. 

“ Over the doorway was a row of skulls of all 
sizes, which Gonzales declared belonged to 
her numerous victims ; then from the ceiling 
hung a string of what we boys thought were 
some kind of herbs, until Gonzales showed us 
that they were dried-up human Ungers. I can 
see you shudder as you read this. He said 
they were the trigger fingers of our poor fel- 
lows killed in battle, and from them Tuliga 
made her charms, which were supposed to 
render those who wore them safe from Ameri- 
can bullets." And last, but not least, he 
wrote, '' She really had a broom, a large native 
affair, and an immense, zvitchy looking black 
cat:' 

James went after Billy and the ponies. He 
found the boy wild with expectancy and ex- 
citement. 

'' If there'd been any fighting, if I had 
heered a single shot, I should have jined 
yous," he declared. 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. I7I 

The three prisoners, still bound and 
gagged, were placed on horseback. Don 
Camilio also rode, whilst the balance of the 
party took turn-about — that is, all save Ser- 
geant Gonzales, who never left Tuliga's side 
one instant. James and young Lessing car- 
ried the rifles and ammunition captured with 
the two sentries. 

The return to camp Vv^as necessarily slow, 
but all went well until they reached the main 
road again, by the palm-tree, Tuliga's sign- 
post. Time had gone very rapidly, it was 
much later than they thought, which they in- 
stantly realized when suddenly the moon 
arose, making the highway before them as 
bright as day, and they still had a good two 
miles to traverse before they would strike the 
American outposts. 

Mac, with one of the rifles, a Mauser, cap- 
tured from the Filipino sentry, rode a little in 
advance, while James, with the other captured 
gun, brought up the rear. 

They had accomplished half the distance, 
and were just congratulating themselves upon 
the danger being over, when suddenly from 
the jungle to their left there came a loud com- 
mand to '' Halt ! ! ’’ and there sprang into the 
road a barefooted, wild-looking Filipino, his 


172 THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 

gun in position, ready to fire, if his command 
were not instantly obeyed. 

Hurry on with the prisoners, Senor Lieu- 
tenant, while I stop and parley with this fel- 
low,’' whispered Gonzales. 

The young Mestizo might have succeeded 
in convincing the Filipino outpost that the lit- 
tle party hurrying up the road were what the 
Sergeant stoutly asserted them to be, an in- 
surgent reconnoitering party, trying to draw 
out the American pickets; but unfortunately 
one of the Filipino prisoners managed just 
then to work the gag out of his mouth and 
yell wildly for help, shrieking out that these 
were “ Americanos ” who had taken them 
prisoners. 

Mac silenced the man with the butt end of 
his rifle, but it was too late ; ping ! pang ! came 
a bullet whistling over their heads ; then a vol- 
ley from the enemy concealed on either side 
of the road. Even as it was fired the young 
Mestizo Sergeant had sprung on the Filipino 
picket, knocking him senseless with a blow 
from the heavy army pistol he carried. Then, 
seizing his rifle and ammunition belt. Sergeant 
Gonzales had joined Mac and his little party 
in less time than it takes to tell it all. 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


173 


It was wonderful how Mac rose to the oc- 
casion. Every idle tale he had heard since he 
landed in Luzon, of the tortures and mutila- 
tions inflicted upon American prisoners by 
the insurgents, flashed through his mind. He 
would rather be killed than captured, but he 
appeared calm, and gave his orders coolly. 
His quick eye had noted that the insurgent 
picket fire stopped at a group of big palm- 
trees. If he could stand off these insurgent 
pickets for a few moments only, he was sure 
the American outposts, hearing the firing, 
would come up to their rescue. He ordered 
the Sergeant to ride on ahead with Don Ca- 
milio^ Billy, and the three prisoners; while 
James, young Harry Lessing, and himself, 
with the three captured rifles, would protect 
their retreat, a few minutes would really de- 
cide it all. 

Mac made a brief, fervent act of contrition, 
it steadied his nerves, and gave him strength ; 
he was ready now for whatever might come. 

Another volley rang out at closer quarters ; 
the insurgents were making sure that only 
three Americans were opposing them. As 
soon as they made sure of this, about twenty 
of them sprang into the road, calling out 
‘‘ Halt ! Our boys' reply was a splendidly 


12 


174 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


fired volley of three shots ; exactly three of the 
enemy fell. Even in that supreme moment, 
Mac found himself thinking : I hope Eve 
only wounded my man.'’ 

‘‘ With a shout of fierce anger, firing as they 
advanced, the insurgents ran forward. Still 
none of the three boys had been hit, each one 
of them was firing as rapidly as possible. 
Suddenly Mac paused, and putting his hand 
to his ear, — 

''Cavalry! Boys, can't you hcar?'^ The 
sharp ears of the Filipino had heard the sound 
too; the quick, rythmical beat of horses trot- 
ting in time; for they halted, hesitated a mo- 
ment, and then disappeared from view, still 
firing, however, just as around a turn in the 
road came a troop of the Nevada cavalry. 

Taking in the situation at a glance, the 
young lieutenant in command of them, called 
to Sergeant Gonzales to halt with his party, 
while the troop, now on a mad run, dashed up 
the road to the rescue of the three young sol- 
diers, who were so pluckily holding out 
against such odds. 

Our boys, yelling with excitement, had fired 
their very last cartridge, just as the volunteers 
reached them, sending a deadly fire into the 
concealed trenches along the road. 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


175 


The insurgents broke from their cover and 
ran wildly, pursued by the Nevada soldiers 
until they were recalled by the bugle. 

The young volunteer lieutenant, a mere boy, 
himself, introduced himself to Mac, as recog- 
nizing in him the ranking officer in his party. 

I’m Jones, of '' B ” troop, Jimmy the fel- 
lows call me. And you are Mr. Williston, I 
know. Your Colonel is making an awful 
row over your being missing. There are a 
lot of scouting parties out, searching for you. 
Your governor, too, is wild.” 

'' Yes, I am Mac Williston,” replied our 
hero, quietly. 

I see you’ve been in a scrap and taken a 
few prisoners,” continued the boy lieutenant.” 

'' Yes, two or three,” replied Mac, care- 
lessly. '' One of them you may have heard of, 
' Tuliga, the Tondo Witch.’ ” '' What ! ’’ejacu- 
lated Lieutenant Jones, in great excitement. 
'' Are you sure of it ? Well, if you really have 
that woman, they will forgive you most any- 
thing up at headquarters. I’ve forgotten to 
tell you, and, indeed, I am awfully sorry to 
have to tell you, but I am ordered to put you 
in arrest, and confine your men in the guard- 
house. It seems the moment you were re- 
ported missing, Colonel Kendall had an ink- 


176 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


ling of what you were up to, and it didn’t take 
long to find out that you and a small party of 
men had passed our outposts just at dark. 

“ I heard the Colonel tell your governor, 
who seemed crazy with anxiety, that he knew 
you had gone off on a romantic expedition to 

rescue some old Spanish Don something 

or other. But the trouble was, we couldn’t tell 
in which direction you had gone, so we’ve 
been scouting around all night. When I 
heard the firing down this road, I knew I had 
found you.” 

'' You came in the nick of time, sir, and I 
am awfully grateful to you. There isn’t any- 
one to blame for this thing to-night, but my- 
self. I hope they won’t punish my men,” 
said Mac. 

'' Well, they were pretty hot about you,” 
was the young officer’s candid reply. 

'' You are to go to your quarters, wherever 
and whatever they may be, a nipa hut or a 
tent, I suppose, in arrest, and report to-mor- 
row morning at reveille to Colonel Kendall’s 
headquarters. 

'' Very good, sir,” said Mac, saluting cour- 
teously, and trying to stand straight. He 
reeled a bit, even as he spoke, and threw one 
hand over James’ shoulder to steady himself. 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


177 


'' But Fm afraid, Lieutenant, I shall have 
to go to the hospital in arrest ; that last volley 
caught me here,’’ pressing his hand to his 
breast, just as a stream of blood showed scar- 
let in the bright moonlight, staining the white 
native blouse in which Mac had so light- 
heartedly disguised himself only a few hours 
before. 



CHAPTER XIIL 


M acs wound was not mortal, but it was 
a pretty close shave, the young sur- 
geon who worked over him all that 
night assured Captain Williston. And it 
meant a long, weary siege. As soon as it was 
safe he was removed to the 2d Reserve hos- 
pital in Manila^ which, in the old days, had 
been a Convent, and was now the most cheer 
fill, pleasant hospital in the service. 

Here the nurse who had cared for little Es- 
merelda, was assigned to him, for which our 
boy was very grateful. 

Esme and her father, the old Don, came 
every day to see their young knight ; they 
could not do enough to express their grati- 
tude. Captain Williston spent every moment 
he could spare at his son’s bedside. The 
51st” had gone back to their camp at the 
Deposito, Lawton’s expedition having thor- 
oughly cleared the southern provinces of the 
insurgents. 

To the hospital came all Mac’s friends, as 
often as the doctor would allow them. 

178 



THE JINRIKISHA WHICH CHARMED BILLY. See Page 189 




THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


179 


James and Billy brought him news from 
the regiment ; a whole lot of officers and men 
had been complimented in orders; amongst 
them Lieutenants Talbot and Desmond, 
whom we know. Corporal James Marvin, 
Private Harry Lessing, and MacLean Willis- 
ton, volunteer aide, for the gallant rescue of 
Don Camilio and the capture of Tuliga. 

It was as Lieutenant Jones had prophesied ; 
so elated were the authorities over the suc- 
cessful capture of this Negritos woman, in 
whom the insurgents believed with supersti- 
tious faith, that they good-naturedly winked 
at Mac’s escapade. He and his companions 
were at once released from arrest, and Ser- 
geant Gonzales was given a substantial money 
reward with a position as captain in the native 
police force. 

The morning after their hazardous expedi- 
tion, while Mac was lying in the hospital, 
weak and unconscious from the loss of blood, 
some very dear friends of his, ten thousand 
miles away, were reading of his exploit in the 
evening paper which set it forth in huge black 
type. 

Brilliant and Successful Exploit of Lieu- 
tenant MacLean Williston, in Capturing 
THE Noted “ Witch of Tondo,” Tuliga, the 


l80 THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 

Cannibal who dines daily upon her nu- 
merous VICTIMS, — ALSO RESCUING FROM HER 
CLUTCHES Don Camilio, a wealthy Spanish 

PLANTER, CAPTURED BY THE INSURGENTS A YEAR 
AND A HALF AGO. 

Whereupon followed a pretty accurate ac- 
count of the adventure of our three boys — 
the account ended by saying that young Wil- 
liston had been severely wounded. 

The solemn old butler at Madam MacLean’s 
stately summer home on the banks of the 
Hudson, was the first to see the paper that 
evening, and so excited and overcome was he 
that he rushed into the drawing-room without 
knocking, and frightening everyone nearly to 
death by exclaiming : Master MacLean’s 
bean 'aving a fight with canniballs and 
witches, and theyVe shot dm severely.” 

That evening the old lady received tele- 
grams from all the MacLean-Williston con- 
nection advising her to have that boy home at 
once. The result was that a cable reached 
her son-in-law the next day, which made Cap- 
tain Williston smile ; but which, if there had 
been any doubts heretofore as to Mac's re- 
turn home, definitely settled the matter. Mac 
was to go home as soon as possible. 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. l8l 

Madge saw the startling news first at Ran- 
dall Barracks, and flew into the kitchen-way to 
tell Delia and Mike the great doings of their 
boy. 

Mike listened to the glowing account in 
characteristic silence, only remarking, as 
Madge laid the paper aside : 

'' Phwats a few canniballs and witches and 
hathen Filipinos, more or less, to a MacLean 
and a Williston ! Thim papers do be always 
making a fuss over nothing.'’ But so proud 
of his boy was the old fellow that he started 
off at once to tell the tale of Mac's prowess to 
anyone who would listen to him. 

Delia had been as characteristically talka- 
tive, and when Madge had read the short ac- 
count through to her, a half a dozen times, 
she announced in her most determined voice 
that she was going in town “ to tilegraph old 
Madame, the only one in the family who had 
rale good sinse, to sind that boy home at 
onct." So Delia’s message was delivered 
with the rest, making the dear, stately old 
lady smile in the midst of her tears, for it 
read : 

You’re the only one in the family with common 
sinse, the only one they all mind, send me home 
that silly boy with his witches and canny balls. 
Charges collect. 


1 82 THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 

The first week in the hospital, Mac got a 
big batch of home mail, amongst it the letters 
telling him what they all thought of his 

Stowaway voyage ; ” there was quite a bud- 
get of them, and each and every writer save 
one gave him particular fits. The exception 
was Mike, and it was evident that a spirit of 
opposition and contrariness made the old fel- 
low write as he did. 

“ Friend Mac/’ the characteristic epistle ran, 
“ if you could hear the wiman folks cackle over 
your doings, if ye’d committed a murder they 
couldn’t say worse of you. Stowaway indeed, my 
only regret is I wasn’t wid you’s, and so I’ll tell 
Mrs. O’Hara to her face'' 

Mac lauehed heartily at this, for Mike was 
ever good at telling Mrs. O’Hara to her 
-face'' until he was actually before that good 
woman, when his courage oozed out rapidly. 

Madge wrote “ You dreadful bad example, 
delightful boy, how did you ever dare do it; 
The High School is wild over the knowledge 
that one of '' tis " is actually at the front. Oh ! 
how I envy you — I inclose you two knots of 
High School colors, and these Sacred Heart 
badges for yourself and Mr. Marvin.” 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 183 

Delia scolded and loved her boy in funny, 
ill-spent sentences, which nearly brought the 
tears with the laughter. It was such a bit of 
homCy and truth to tell, Mac was dreadfully 
homesick. 

When a week or so later little Esme, with 
her father, came to bid him farewell, — they, 
with several hundred rescued Spanish prison- 
ers were to sail on a transport direct to Mad- 
rid — he fairly broke down and cried, and 
so his father found him when, a few moments 
later, he entered noiselessly, thinking Mac 
asleep. Captain Williston gathered the poor 
fellow up in his arms and soothed him as if 
he had been a little child. 

'' I am so ashamed of myself, daddy,'’ 
sobbed poor Mac. 

'' You needn’t be, son. I’ve seen older and 
stronger men than you break down with the 
same illness ; I’ve even had a touch of it my- 
self.” 

'' Why, what do you mean, dad, dear ? ” 

'' Homesickness, lad ; that hole in your 
chest will never heal up properly until you 
are safely back in the States, so I have just 
cabled Grandmother MacLean ' Going home, 
at once,’ and signed it Mac. The Grant 
leaves next week, and I have made all the ar- 


184 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


rangements for you to sail on her. Billy goes 
with you, and will go East with you. 

For the present you will stay with your 
grandmother, but when the High School 
opens, if you feel you would like to go on 
with your class, and graduate with it in June, 
Delia can open up the house for you. I shall 
be glad, my dear boy, to think of you at home 
and more — and I have a great piece of news, 
came in this last mail, which will reconcile you 
to going home, an appointment to West 
Point, for next June.” 

“ How good you are to me, dad, dear,” 
cried Mac, brokenly. To think I have my 
appointment to West Point too; I don’t be- 
lieve even you know how I have wanted to go 
there, and now I see just how little I deserve 
it. My disobedience and recklessness has 
caused you so much anxiety. 

'' I have been doing a lot of thinking since 
I have been here, in the hospital, and Father 
Reynolds and I have had some good, long 
talks. I don’t mean to do wrong and be reck- 
less and disobedient ; but I get an idea into 
my head, and I go ahead and carry out that 
idea, without stopping to think of conse- 
quences. Won’t I work hard to do you credit 
at the ' Point.’ ” 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 185 

'' I know, my son,'' and Mac felt his father's 
hand gently take his. The reason of all this 
is that you are only a boy, after all; you've 
been doing a man's work, Mac, and it is an ill 
thing to put an old head on young shoulders. 
Whatever we may feel in the excitement of 
the moment, war is an awful thing. The 
principal reason I have not sent you home 
long ago, was that I wanted you to rea- 
lize, yourself, that your first disobedience in 
following me here against my will, was wrong. 
In fact, old fellow, the only cure for your dis- 
ease was to let you have your own way, and 
cure yourself ; and you have done well, Mac. 
You have been a brave, gallant, young sol- 
dier; a little lacking in discipline, perhaps, 
but time and West Point will cure that. 

'' And now I have preached you quite a lit- 
tle sermon, I will just finish by saying, go 
home and be a boy again, and may God bless 
and keep you, my dear son." 

Billy was openly delighted at the thought 
of returning to the ould counthry," as he 
called it. His warm, little heart was over- 
flowing with love for '' his Captain " and Mac, 
because they had given him a home. Never 
more would he be a poor, forlorn waif, adrift 
at the world's mercy. 


1 86 THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 

Some ten days later two boys stood on the 
forward deck of the great transport Grant, as 
she lay in Manila Bay, just ready to start on 
her long homeward-bound voyage, across the 
wide Pacific. One, tall, thin, white-cheeked, 
and hollow-eyed, supported himself with a 
cane in one hand, while the other leaned on 
the arm of his companion. “ Wave, Billy, 
wave hard, every moment until we are out of 
sight,'' he was saying, feebly but earnestly. 

Then, as the great ship began to steam 
slowly around, both boys hurried aft, to keep 
in sight of the little group on shore, who were 
waving and calling to them. 

I can still distinguish dad and James ; can 
you, Billy?" 

'' Yes, sor, I can." 

Billy, if I look the least bit as if I were 
going to weep, pinch me, pinch me black and 
blue. I wouldn't for worlds have my dear 
old dad catch his last glimpse of me with me 
sniveling, and — and — oh, dear, but I feel 
fearfully like it." Whereupon Billy admin- 
istered the desired pinch. 

Suddenly Mac exclaimed : ‘‘ Look, Billy, 

James is wig-wagging some message." In 
the excitement of spelling out the message, 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 1 87 

Mac forgot to feel blue and '' weeping/’ the 
exact result young Marvin had intended. 

Good bye, and good luck, love to all at 
home,” the message read. '' Look in the left- 
hand corner of your steamer trunk.” 

Hurriedly fixing his handkerchief on the 
end of his cane, Mac cheerfully, but rather un- 
steadily wig-wagged back : O. K., thanks,” 

and soon the dear familiar faces began to 
grow dim and then slowly, but surely, van- 
ished. 

Mac turned, with an air of sorrowful relief. 

'' Well, Billy, the hardest part of the voyage 
is over now, the leaving dad behind. Come, 
we’ll go below and look in the left-hand cor- 
ner of my trunk.” 

He found there a long letter from both 
his father and James, written for every day of 
the voyage ; half a dozen of the new books 
from home ; a fine watch set with diamonds, of 
Spanish make, from Don Camilio, also a 
photograph from little Esme, with a note 
from her saying she was coming soon to see 
dear Senor Mac and the lovely Billy, '' and 
see their strange and wonderful country.” 

Gifts for all the dear friends at home com- 
pleted the valuables in the left-hand corner. 

When the tiMn gong sounded for the noon- 
13 


i88 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


day meal, quite cheerfully our two boys hur- 
ried to their places at the Captain’s table. 
They found it already filled, save for their own 
seats, and everyone looking at them, with evi- 
dent but good-natured curiosity. 

Mac understood the reason all eyes were 
turned towards Billy and himself, when the 
Captain, with a sweep of his hand, said to the 
guests at the table : 

‘‘ Allow me, gentlemen, to present to you 
the very ones whose adventures I have been 
telling you. Gentlemen, ' The Two Stowa- 
ways.’ ” 


CHAPTER XIV. 


T he two boys found the homeward bound 
voyage delightful in every way. They 
made a stop of two days at Nagasaki, and 
Mac and Billy had all the ''shore leave’' they 
wanted, and a fat purse from which to draw; 
so they were perfectly happy. They took 
innumerable "jinrikisha” rides and explored 
the curious Japanese town from end to end, 
save one deserted, gloomy portion of it, which 
was roped off and placarded with the laconic 
but ominous warning, in half a dozen lan- 
guages, "plague.” 

Mac bought gifts for all his friends, a 
gorgeous, huge-flowered kimono for Delia. 
It pleased the good woman beyond measure, 
though she could never be persuaded to don 
the "hathen thing,” but used it as a "drape,” 
as she called it, to decorate the wall of her 
little sitting room on the third floor. Madge 
was to have a dainty little blue and white tea 
set for her tea table, while Mac was bringing 
Mike a goodly store of the finest cigars made 
in Manila. 

1P9 


190 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


It was great fun choosing and buying the 
various gifts, but when they were done, Mac 
noticed a wistful look on Billy’s usually merry 
face, so he asked, ‘‘What’s the matter, old 
man ? You look as glum as an owl.” 

“I was just a thinking, sor; I’ve no one 
on airth as would care to git a present from 
me. 

“ Well, never mind, Billy ; that will soon 
be over, you know. You’re coming home to 
friends, remember that; and you can give me 
all the presents you want, and won’t I be 
glad to get them.” 

Mac was only joking, but his remark put 
an idea into Billy’s grateful mind, for that 
very afternoon he gave Mac the slip, and 
bought half a dozen different articles, gor- 
geous to look at, but Mac never did find out 
quite what they were intended for. 

Before leaving his father at Manila, Mac 
had a long talk with him regarding his own 
plans for the winter, and also about Billy’s fu- 
ture. Captain Williston had written the boy’s 
sad little story to Madam MacLean, and had 
received a reply from that stately but warm- 
hearted old lady only a few days l^ef ore the 
boys sailed for home. She had generously 
offered to provide for Billy’s future; she 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. IQ I 

could make no definite plans, however, until 
she had seen the lad and talked with him. 
She wanted both Mac and Billy to spend the 
winter with her. Billy should be sent to 
some good school, of course, while Mac could 
go daily to the famous West Point coach. 
Captain Bannister, a retired army officer who 
made a regular and successful business of 
getting boys into West Point. For these 
reasons. Madam wrote her son-in-law, she was 
prepared to close her city home for the win- 
ter. Captain Williston uttered an ejacula- 
tion of surprise when he read this, for he 
well knew how Madam hated the country 
in winter. 

But to this part of the plan Mac demurred. 

** Oh ! dad, must I ” he exclaimed. Of 
course, I am awfully fond of grandmother, 
and I will go and make her nice long visits, 
but to live with her, that’s different ; must 

I?„ 

Thereupon father and son talked the whole 
question over very carefully. Captain Willis- 
ton thoroughly understood why a boy would 
chafe under the somewhat rigid etiquette of 
Madam MacLean’s stately, old-fashioned es- 
tablishment. The long, ceremonious seven- 
o’clock dinner, at which a boy could never by 


192 THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 

any possibility appear in anything save his 

Tuxedo,” no matter if he had been coaching 
his Eleven ” up to the very last moment, was 
not always pleasant. No one could conceive 
of that stately, orderly mansion ‘^cluttered up,” 
as Delia would call it, with boyish treasures 
and traps. No, that plan would not do. Cap- 
tain Williston mentally decided. Home, with 
faithful Delia and Mike to look after him, 
would be the best place for his boy ; but for 
Billy, that was a different matter, as he ex- 
plained to Mac. As his grandmother had 
undertaken the boy’s future, she alone had 
the right to decide upon the plans for him. 

Billy, naturally enough, was intensely in- 
terested in this ‘Hairy godmother” who was 
going to do so much for him. Mac had a 
beautiful photograph of his grandmother in 
which the charm of her lovely high-bred face 
was brought out very distinctly, and often- 
times Mac would find Billy in his tent 
studying, with a look of awe, the somewhat 
haughty features of the little old grand- 
mother, of whom not only himself, but the 
entire family, stood somewhat in fear. 

Their last afternoon at Nagasaki, Billy 
had somewhat diffidently asked Mac if he 
thought “ Madam,” as he too had learned to 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


193 


call her, would think it a piece of impudence, 
if he, Billy, were to buy her a present. 

Mac declared she would be delighted, and 
guided Billy’s somewhat crude taste, and pur- 
chased a really fine bit of Japanese ware in a 
cup and saucer, for the collection which was 
one of Madam MacLean’s chief hobbies. 

Every day which carried them nearer home 
brought renewed strength and vitality to our 
wounded hero. The first week out, with 
the chief surgeon’s consent, Mac laid aside 
his crutches, saying to Billy with a happy 
laugh that had yet a slight catch in it : 

‘‘You know, old fellow, there was a time 
when the doctors thought I might have to 
use these always. I won’t be half as much 
of a hero with only a cane and a slight limp, 
shall I .? ” 

Then for an instant the fun and laughter 
went out of Mac’s voice, as he said rever- 
ently : 

“ God has been awfully good to us, Billy.” 

“Yes, sor ; He has,” was the equally rev- 
erent reply. “Awful good, and to me, too. 
I don’t see how I can ever pay Him back ; 
but I’d like to mighty well.” 

Ah, warm, generous young heart, God 
found the way for you, Billy, all poor, lowly. 


194 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


and ignorant, as you were; He found a 
wonderful and beautiful way ‘Ho pay Him 
back.^^ 

How many careless, ungrateful receivers of 
God’s bounty ever think of the “paying 
back.?” 

The dawn of a beautiful August morning 
found the big transport, “Grant,” safely 
anchored in the blue waters of the harbor at 
Honolulu, where they stayed three days, giv- 
ing our boys a delightful outing, which per- 
haps they would have enjoyed more if the 
thought of home being so near had not 
obtruded itself, and made them impatient to 
be off again. 

Of course they had no time, and would 
not have been allowed if there had been time, 
to visit the famous leper settlement at 
Molokai, where Father Damian lived his 
saintly life and died a truly martyr’s death 
amongst his “poor children.” 

It was some two weeks later when the 
“ Grant ” sailed slowly through the “ Golden 
Gate” to be greeted with the boom of the 
big guns at Alcatraz and the other harbor 
posts, and to receive a hearty, if shrill wel- 
come from the various tugs, pilot boats, and 
quartermaster launches which were on the 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


195 


lookout to be the first to welcome the great 
troop ship. 

Our boy travelers found quite a crowd of 
friends and relatives to welcome them. Cap- 
tain and Mrs. MacLean, of course, with all 
the MacLean cousins, and, amongst the crowd 
on the wharf, Billy was proud and touched 
to see Father Howard’s energetic, young fig- 
ure waving his clerical hat as wildly and 
enthusiastically as any one else. 

Our boys spent a brief, happy week in San 
Francisco, both made so much of by every 
one who knew them and their story, that the 
only wonder was their poor heads were not 
quite turned. Billy made the rounds to tell 
his old-time friends and companions of the 
wonderful new future which awaited him 
‘‘back East”; a mystic phrase which always 
called up to these children of the far West a 
mysterious land of delight, where all that 
was good and desirable on earth was to be 
had. Father Howard had an hour’s serious 
talk with his former pupil and protege, and to 
him Billy confided the secret aspirations of a 
singularly generous, grateful soul. 

It was dusk of a hot August evening when 
the “ Chicago Limited ” stopped for one in- 
stant to let off our heroes at “ Moorelands,’' 


196 THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 

the station for Mooreland House,” as 
Madam MacLean’s beautiful country place 
was called. Both were named for the old 
family places in their beloved Scotland, where 
the old country MacLeans still lived and flour- 
ished in spite of the fact that their family had 
remained true to Scotland’s ancient faith, for 
it was the boast of the MacLeans that they 
were as good Catholics as they were Scots- 
men. 

As Mac hopped nimbly off the train, bal- 
ancing himself with his cane and Billy’s 
friendly shoulder, a young girl, gowned in the 
daintiest of fresh pink organdies, rushed for- 
ward with a sob, exclaiming, O, Mac dear, 
you can’t half know how glad we are to have 
you safe home,” giving him a hearty hand- 
clasp. 

Madam MacLean, pleasant and smiling, 
hastened forward to greet her favorite grand- 
son, saying, I thought you’d be pleased, 
laddie, to have some one from home to greet 
you. And so this is Billy, is it.^^” turning to 
the boy who stood shy and embarrassed. I’m 
glad to welcome you ho^ne, my boy,” said the 
stately little lady ; and Billy’s heart went 
out to her at that word “home”; and from 
that moment he accepted Madam as his liege 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS(^ IQ/ 

lady, to whom he was never disloyal in 
thought, word, nor deed. 

Madge added her warm greetings to Mad- 
am’s, and between them they made the shy, 
awkward boy feel at home, though the sight 
of the solemn old butler gave poor Billy ter- 
rible qualms. 

Madam excused him from dinner the first 
few days until he should grow a little more 
accustomed to his new way of life ; but it was 
only a brief reprieve, for Madam had deter- 
mined that her young protege was to be 
brought up as a gentleman and have a good 
chance in life She had liked his honest, 
merry face from the first ; but when the 
trunks had arrived and Billy had diffidently 
presented his offering of the cup and saucer, 
her heart was entirely won. She was a 
wealthy old lady, with ample to spare for one 
of God’s poor laddies, even after she gave 
generously to her own children. 

What happy days the three young people 
spent. Driving and boating were their chief 
amusements, for Mac was not able to do much 
more than hobble around on his cane, with 
either Madge or Billy to lend a hand. 

But the weeks flew by all too swiftly. 
School was to open September 25th, and 


igS 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


Mac was determined to be there on the open- 
ing day if it were possible. Madge was 
equally anxious, for the High School was 
planning a grand welcome to their very own 
hero from the Philippines. 

Madam MacLean had not opposed Mac’s 
return home, somewhat to his surprise, but 
she had decided to keep Billy with her. He 
was to enter Fordham at the midwintei term, 
and until then was to have a private ,eacher 
to enable him to enter his class without dis- 
advantage. 

As September drew to a close, a quiet but 
happy little group of people sat around the 
big open wood fires that the cool evenings 
made enjoyable. How the three young people 
chattered ! The little white-haired lady in 
the background smiled as she listened to 
their talk. Madge was very skillful in draw- 
ing from the two boys their various adven- 
tures in the Philippines ; and she never tired 
of listening to the story of Don Camilio’s 
rescue, and of how they found little Esmer- 
alda and delivered her from her cruel tyrant, 
the Witch of Tondo.” 

Even unimpressionable Madam ” would 
shudder at Mac’s vivid description of the 
witch’s murderous den in the depths of the 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 1 99 

tropical jungles, with its horrible frieze of 
human skulls, and the weird black cat, which, 
panther-like, walked ceaselessly back and 
forth before these frightful relics. 

A letter had come from Don Camilio stat- 
ing that he and Esme had been welcomed 
home by their friends and relatives as ones 
from the dead. 

I see sad changes,'’ Don Camilio wrote, 
but I pray that before long my Esme and 
myself may come in peace to your country, 
which, after all is said, owes so much to mine, 
— and see and thank you once more for, all 
that you have done for us." A wish which 
all those present echoed most heartily. 

The principal train from the south arrives 
at Randall, the chief town in northern New 
York, located on Lake Champlain, at 6:io 
p. M. exactly. There is always considerable 
bustle and commotion every evening when 
the New York train arrives ; but one evening 
in late September, the few and scattered pas- 
sengers on the Montreal train were quite 
excited to find the whole town, so it seemed 
to them, gathered at the station to meet the 
incoming train. 


200 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


A brass band was in attendance, which 
struck up the stirring air of ^‘See, the Con- 
quering Hero Comes,” as a tall thin youth, 
who used a cane and walked with a limp, got 
off, followed by a stately, little white-haired 
lady, and a very pretty tall slim girl of sixteen, 
while a shy-looking boy, laden with wraps and 
bags, helped the porter in seeing that none 
of their numerous belongings were left behind. 

A wild school yell rent the air and mingled 
with shouts of 

“ Randall ! Randall ! 

Rah ! Rah ! Rah ! 

What’s the matter with MacLean?” 

and its invariable answer of He’s all 
Right,” was the noise of giant crackers 
booming out a military salute to the High 
School hero. 

Mac was pushing his way slowly through a 
sea of welcoming faces, shaking hands right 
and left, when suddenly a voice was heard 
above all the tumult, saying : 

‘‘What’s the use o’ bein’ a man at all, 
Michael O’Hara, if ye’r can’t knock me down 
a few o’ these trespassin’ cratures that won’t 
let me get to me bye.” 

“ Delia, Delia, here I am,” and a way was 
made through the crowd, and in another 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


201 


moment the warm-hearted, devoted old nurse 
had “her bye” in her arms. 

“ Most extraordinary people,” remarked a 
traveling Englishman from the rear of the 
Pullman where he had been watching the 
scene before him in bewildered amazement. 
“ Most extraordinary, don’t you know.” 

“ Some base ball hero, I fancy, knocked out 
in a game, and the town turns out to wel- 
come him.” 

But when the smiling porter explained who 
Mac was, the Englishman became quite ex- 
cited and cheered as wildly as the rest. 

Mac was banqueted, toasted, serenaded, 
and cheered until long after midnight, for 
heroship has its trials ; nevertheless, it was a 
very happy though tired boy who knelt before 
the familiar little shrine in his own room, — 
everything just as he had left it months ago. 
The ebony Crucifix with the sacred, agonized, 
ivory figure of Christ gleamed out in the 
moonlight, a ray of which fell upon his 
mother’s dear face as she smiled at her boy 
— a face ever beautiful, sweet, and young — 
from the quaint old-fashioned miniature in its 
frame of burnished gold. 

The little statue of the Virgin Mother with 
her Divine Child stood beside his mother’s 


202 


THE TWO STOWAWAYS. 


portrait, as if in tender love of her who had 
been taken away so young from her dear ones. 

As Mac gazed lovingly at these familiar 
objects, dear and sacred to him from his boy- 
hood, his eyes were wet with sudden tears 
which yet were not all sad, as he prayed fer- 
vently that he might become what his absent 
father and his dead mother in Heaven would 
desire for him, a good man. 

He fell asleep with his mother’s rosary in 
his thin brown hands, which had not yet got- 
ten rid of their tropical tan; and so Delia 
found him when the last thing before she 
went to bed she went in to ‘Huck him in.” 

‘‘My darlint,” the old woman whispered 
softly, and she kissed him gently on the fore- 
head. “ Shure, Miss Mary, dear, you’ll be 
knowing how I love the bye ; your bye and 
mine ; and help me, a poor ignorant old 
woman, to do my best for our bye.” 

And Mac slept peacefully on, with one 
stirring chapter of his life closed. “ The 
Two Stowaways ” had returned to their home 
at last. 






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